Essence in Fragments
by RubinaLadybug
Summary: Unconnected vignettes between Peter/Spidey and the Osborn family. Current story: The Osborns put an end to The Goblin for good. [Hiatus until June 2020]
1. Igniting the Cure

**Author's notes:** I was originally looking to post a few USM one shots with them revolving around Peter/Spidey and the Osborns. Then I thought it'd be better to place them in a collection because they aren't that long. I'll also use the short length to practice some writing tips I've come across from professional writers. Some stories will have happy endings. Some will be sad.

So let's begin with a scene that I'm actually surprised the USM cartoon left out since it's such a pivotal moment for Norman and The Goblin. While it was cool to see Norman have this relentless drive as a businessman and parent, they left out a crucial aspect to his character.

 **Summary:** Great power and can either bring great rewards or great responsibilities. The inspiration to snuff out The Goblin for good is ignited.

 **Disclaimer: RubinaLadybug does not own** _ **Ultimate Spider-man**_ **or any of its characters.** _ **Ultimate Spider-man**_ **characters and plot belong to Stan Lee, Steve Ditko** **(R.I.P.)** **, Marvel, and Disney.**

 _ **Igniting the Cure**_

" _I already said no! That's final!"_

 _Harry was walking down the stairs in the Osborn penthouse when he heard shouting. He immediately knew that was his father. These bouts of anger, however, sounded different from the businessman's strong voice. They carried a sliver of edginess. That concerned him. He quickened his pace down the steps._

" _Dad?" he called when he reached the bottom. "Is everything OK?"_

 _The tall industrialist didn't seem to notice him. Instead, he continuously muttered to himself. His eyes held his irritation._

" _Dad?" Harry called once more. He grabbed his father's arm._

 _Norman became startled. He then took notice of who was with him. He relaxed. "Oh, Harry. It's only you."_

" _I heard shouting. I wanted to be sure that you're alright."_

" _Harry, it was nothing. It was… It was only a business consolation call." Norman turned away and mumbled, "Some brutes just can't take no for an answer."_

 _Harry stood in place. He didn't see a phone anywhere near his father. The worry within him built. He marked just how stressed Norman grew. He was used to seeing him afflicted with the pressure of running a company. Only the strong could lead an entire corporation. Yet a part of him believed that this particular strain was caused by something else. He didn't want things to be the way they were._

" _Dad, you look a little sick. Maybe you should take a breather."_

" _No, no. I'm fine."_

 _To keep his mind distracted, Norman picked up a folder on the kitchen island. He opened it and found some important documents. His mind became engulfed with work. This seemed to reduce his pressure._

 _Harry understood the endless energy and hours his father placed into the business. However, he didn't want Norman to overwork himself._

" _I can bring you something to drink. Like coffee," Harry gently offered. "Or some tea."_

 _Norman kept his eyes on the records. "Whichever."_

 _Glad he found something to do, Harry whipped out his phone to place an online order. He headed towards the elevator to meet the delivery in the lobby. When he returned, he was pleased that his father was still in the same room._

" _I got you your drink."_

" _Just set it down on the counter," Norman instructed. He seemed to have returned to his normal stance, one where he is in control. Closing the folder he was holding, he added, "I know you have several school projects to work on. Bring me your rough draft when you finish it and I'll look it over."_

 _Harry had placed in more effort in his studies. The two Osborns had collaborated with some assignments. But lately, the older Osborn became more and more obsessed with work. He didn't want to inflate anymore stress to his father._

" _OK," Harry muttered, keeping the waters calm. He returned to his bedroom to complete his school work._

 _Hours later, he returned to the living room. He held a printed copy of his draft._

" _Dad?" he asked as he looked around. "Dad?"_

 _His eyes rested on the counter. The drink had remained in its spot where he had left it. The beverage had gone cold._

 _Disappointed, he took the foam cup and poured out the tea into the sink._

* * *

"And that's how it's been lately," Harry dismally concluded.

He and his best friend Peter had gathered around their usual hangout spot, The Coffee Bean (est. 1962). They sat inside at a small round table. The strong aroma of coffee filled every inch of the space. The place was busy with people rushing in and out, ordering their drinks and bite-sized snacks.

Peter carefully listened to his best bud's story. He spotted the auburn teen sulking. He knew how hard he was taking the change.

((Things haven't always been easy between the Osborns. Norman has been spending more time with his son ever since he was rescued from his Goblin persona. So long as Norman stays away from any Goblin serum, it's all Spider-man can do. But Peter can still give them a hand.))

"At least you offered," the brunet tried to sooth. "The least you are doing is reminding him to eat and sleep. But it's most important to be there for him."

Harry wanted to agree. However, he felt like he was being pushed aside once more. He grunted, "I just don't want him to overwork himself… He's supposed to be taking it easy… But…"

"His workaholic character taking control again?"

"Right."

Peter tried to give his comfort. He also knew he needed to be realistic. "He's probably just going through a rough patch. He's got a lotta makeup work for Oscorp after being, well, a Goblin."

"Yeah…" That was all Harry could respond with. He loathed anything that reminded him of those bleak times. How he longed to work past that dark history. In spite of that honest ambition, he couldn't deny that his father had changed for the better after he was cured. He only feared that the revision in attitude was fleeting.

"You have shown that you are being there for him," Peter added. "Maybe he just needs some space."

Problems wouldn't be swept underneath the rug. Pain needed time to heal. However, the rift was between family. Now all any friend could do was bring some joy.

Smiling, Peter stood up from his spot and asked, "So, should we head back to the penthouse?"

"Sure," the auburn boy dismally replied.

The two left the café and headed towards the limo.

Harry stayed quiet, still sulking about what had happened. He appreciated his friend's help. To him, though, it seemed Norman could either be a businessman or a father. He was incapable of being both.

* * *

" _ **Long live The Goblin!"**_

Norman awoke with a startle in his office. He had fallen asleep in his posh office chair. He was now leaning against his lengthy desk. He panted.

Sunlight continued to shine through the large window panes. The outdoors offered a gorgeous day. Such powerful rays brought on some heart. The A/C activated after sensing the rise in room temperature.

Despite the nice breeze, Norman's heart still raced. He placed one hand over his worried features. "Again with that nightmare."

He was haunted by his time as The Goblin. Snippets raced around his memories. He caused plenty of damage to the city where his company was established, where he lived. He endangered the lives of civilians and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Perhaps the worst for him was his lust for power, that sinful desire for more. That is what drove him to abandon Harry. While a Goblin, he left his underage child alone. And their reunion was unholy. The Goblin had snatched a sample of Venom and vacated, leaving his boy at the mercy of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier to sink to the bottom of the ocean. He could have easily lost his son.

"Harry said he'd be out with Peter," Norman reminded himself. He stood up from his desk."I should see if he's returned."

He wanted to check in on him. He needed to see him. Before he had the chance to step out, he heard a familiar, maniacal cackling. Chills swept down his spine.

On the wall was a fancy mirror. He looked at it. His eyes had changed. They were once a rich blue. But The Goblin formula had altered them to a sickening green. That was how he remembered everything. He was looking through old photos when he noted the difference. And such a variation was prevailing his life in other realms.

The cackling filled the room a second time.

Inside the mirror was now a horrific green beast. The creature had vicious yellow ears, sharp teeth, and jagged ears. The expression was both fearful and arrogant. It was Norman's own reflection, and yet it wasn't.

"No!" Norman gasped. "Not you! Not this again!"

He felt his sweat growing. His body began trembling. When he started to remember that horrible monster, he hoped that it was only a nightmare. But the hallucinations and visitations from his past self grew more and more dominate. He couldn't escape it.

"Dear Norman," the image spoke. Its voice was calm and malicious. "Why have you kept me imprisoned?"

The man's mouth fell agape. The Goblin was clearly present once more. His words came out crystal clear. Sometimes it sounded like the reflection was speaking. Other times, he heard the words because he himself was the one speaking them.

"It's been some time," The Goblin taunted. "Here you are cooped up in this stuffy office. Don't you miss riding that glider? Tossing pumpkin bombs and shooting razor bats?"

Norman didn't respond. He remembered that all too well—the air whipping through him, the destruction of buildings, the shrieks of fleeing civilians.

"Facing off against you mortal enemy Spider-man?"

The name of the arachnid-based hero rang in the man's mind. They had their battles against one another. So many scars. So many torn costumes. Yet the masked champion never destroyed him. Instead, the wall-crawler helped find a cure for the horrific green skin. Twice.

Bravely, Norman turned towards the image. "Spider-man is not of your concern anymore! He's a hero to the city!"

His fear was replaced with valor. "Quit trying to convenience me to set you free! You have no power over me anymore! Yet you insist on coming back! I can't focus on my work because of you!"

Guilt consumed him. He wanted to spend more time with his son. He wanted to be a better father like he had promised. But such promises broke.

"You've been working the long hours for the wrong reasons," The Goblin argued. "There should only be one goal to achieve: Bringing me back."

"No! The Goblin is a horrid creature that must be locked away forever!"

Arguments between Osborn and Goblin had become normal. The visitations from The Goblin were only fragments, going from quieting urges and cackles, to horrid reminders of what was still present, to the lingering temptations. The Goblin knew how to remain longer before his temporary banishment. There was something else that enticed the businessman: His lust for power and his pride.

"Do you plan to allow your weaker self to win?" The Goblin teased. "You'll lose in an instant. Remember how much losing reminds you of your putrid father?"

Norman growled. He hated the comparisons. He was a man driven to outdo his past.

The Goblin knew this weakness. "They are out to get you. Your company will suffer without me. You need to show them all what Norman is capable with The Goblin! Show them all! Spider-man included!"

"Enough with the paranoia! There is no _they_!" Norman shot back. As time went on, Norman understood that The Goblin was only seeking control. He had learned how to handle the situation. "Octavious hasn't been heard of in months! Oscorp has been succeeding! Spider-man… Spider-man rescued me from you. I won't double-cross him."

"So what about yourself? What about the strength that only The Goblin can offer?"

"I've long ago moved past that. Why would I need _you_ when I have the Iron Patriot armor?" Norman smirked. He took his tools and formed a modern identity, one that he could be proud of.

The beast in the mirror was quiet. The man before him was denying all his villainous points. Forming a new idea, he flashed a mischievous grin. "Then perhaps I'll need someone _new_ to carry on the Goblin torch."

A great fear struck the industrialist. He never wanted his green curse to ever be bestowed unto his boy. Norman grew enraged. "Don't you _dare_ go near my son!"

"And which one is that?" the voice challenged, unafraid of the threat. "The one who is a feeble failure? Or the one we forced the recreated Goblin serum on?"

Norman gritted his teeth. He loathed himself for rejecting his own child. He loathed his appalling action he took against his son's best friend.

"There is a way to revise The Goblin. You know it."

The fear began to spread once more within Norman. "I can't!"

"You can! You know how to make the serum."

Indeed, Norman had uncovered his old employee's creation. That was how he managed to use it on Peter. The results, however, were not what anyone expected. He had yet to figure out what went wrong—why the brunet ended up as Carnage over a Goblin. He had no desire to.

Norman furiously shook his head. "Shut up! I have no business listening to the likes of you!"

"Of course you do! I am you!"

"You are not me! I won't allow myself to be defined by The Goblin any longer! Any work done shall be done by me, Norman Osborn!"

"Exactly! By you! Label yourself however you please—father, Osborn, businessman! You are a _scientist_ first! You are always looking for improvement! You have unlocked a way to enhance _yourself_!"

Norman stared at the image. He couldn't deny what he had come across. He was a man with a goal to outdo his competitors, his own deficiencies.

And The Goblin knew this. "Toss aside that tin can you call Iron Patriot! I am the ultimate form of Norman Osborn!"

The owner of Oscorp refused to accept that. He still held on to his humanity. "No! You are not the _ultimate_ me! I did nothing but cause heartache for my son!"

"You yourself had said that with great power can come great reward. That is what you wish to teach young Harry, isn't it?"

Norman gasped.

Harry. His son.

Norman grunted. The choice between responsibility and rewards for his great power rested in his decision. With all his might, he tore himself away from the haunting mirror. He stormed towards his desk. He pressed a button underneath. A secret door on the other end slid open. He opened up one of his many hidden labs.

Still shaking, he marched inside. His mind raced with his time as The Goblin. He recalled all the work Spider-man placed in to prevent him from being locked away. It was thanks to the wall-crawler that he no longer carried the cursed green skin.

Emily, his wife, was gone. Harry was all he had left. His boy had placed in great effort in keeping their bond together. Unlike himself with his own father, Ambrose Osborn. The Goblin raised questions, persuaded that the Goblin path was the only way to protect the Osborn family, insisted that it was best for Harry. Harry, however, truly cared about him.

Norman had now remembered who he was, what he worked for, and who he needed to protect.

Coming towards a coat rack, he placed a white lab coat over his expensive suit jacket. It had been some time since he wore the white apparel. He had been spending more time in his office than he once did in the lab. He marched over towards the lab table. His eyes gazed around the equipment. He carried a goal in mind. The scientist within him came alive.

"There is only one way to free myself of this Goblin curse forever. I must do so for my son."

* * *

Harry sat on the sofa. He quietly watched a baseball game on the expensive flat screen TV. Aside from the cheers and the broadcaster, the whole penthouse was in silence. As usual.

But an interruption soon came about. The double doors opened.

Norman held his head high as he walked in. A great sense of triumph overcame him. He half expected to hear explosions and other noises emitting from a videogame. He spotted his son on the sofa. Despite the disaster and sorrow The Goblin brought, Harry was still present. Norman looked around. He spotted his son but not his guest. "Wasn't Peter just here?"

"He had to take off," Harry replied. He then bitterly added, "Wouldn't want to keep a bright mind like his from his studies."

Standing up from the couch, he turned off the TV. He didn't care that the game was still playing. He didn't want to be in the same room as the one who chose his enterprise over him. Even when he sought to be a good son, or when he agreed to try harder in his studies, he still felt like he was on the lower end of his father's attention.

Norman sensed the rage in his boy. He picked up the envious tone that poisoned his son's voice. For some time the industrialist had favored the astute brunet over the auburn teen. His own idea for perfectionism and success existed long before he was ever controlled by his green half. The Goblin could not hold all the blame. He understood his mistake.

"Son, come here."

Harry was reluctant at first. He believed he was about to get an earfull. He stepped closer. To his surprise, his father hugged him.

"I know things haven't always been easy between us," Norman said. "I know you have tried so hard to be with me. I know the difficulties when I was gone for uncountable days. Even before I was The Goblin."

Harry swallowed. He couldn't deny the truth.

Norman continued, "But I promise to try harder on my end. Just give me time to adjust."

The teen became speechless.

The father pulled himself away from his son. Looking to keep their connection open, he asked in an upbeat voice, "What projects are you working on for school?"

"Um," the teen stuttered, still baffled by his only parent's buoyant attitude.

"You know what? We'll work on that tomorrow. Why don't we just spend the rest of the afternoon at home?"

"To do what?"

"Whatever you like."

Harry wanted to embrace the idea. However, he couldn't allow such fantasy to control him. He meekly asked, "But what about your work?"

"Yes, I do have plenty of work. I still need a break every now and then," Norman insisted. He placed a hand on his boy's shoulder. "Besides, I have something more important to be concerned about."

The son gazed directly into his parent's eyes. He formed a trust. "Well, I was just watching a baseball game. There's still four more innings to get through."

"Terrific!" Norman's voice strayed from any sarcasm. He headed straight for the couch.

Harry remained staggered. He didn't see Norman holding his cell phone, a laptop, or any papers. There wasn't anything that could pull away the head of Oscorp. Smiling, he decided to accept the gift of the moment. He took his seat once more on the sofa.

Just before the game came back on, Norman spotted the entire living room reflecting across the slick black screen. His son was sitting next to him, unharmed. Viewing himself, he spotted not the cursed image of The Goblin, but his own self.

 **End** _ **Igniting the Cure**_

 **Author's notes** : So that is the first in a set of non sequitur one shots. I have a handful being written and will post them when I get the chance… Or at least if I remember to.

The Coffee Bean, see _The_ _Amazing Spider-Man #5_ _3_ , 1967.

Emily Osborn-Lyman, for initial appearance in a photo, see _Spectacular Spider-Man #180_ , 1991 ("The Child Within: Part 3 of 6"). For full appearance, see _Spider-Man:_ _Revenge of_ _t_ _he Green Goblin #1_ , 2000.

Amberson "Ambrose" Osborn, see _The Spectacular Spider-Man Annual #14_ , 1994.


	2. School paper article

**Author's notes:** Enjoy!

 **Summary:** School paper article about The Frightful Four attacking Midtown High in S1E1 "Great Power."

 _ **Frightful Four storms school,**_ _ **Spider-man saves students**_

by Mary Jane Watson, Midtown High reporter

Criminal quartet known as The Frightful Four allegedly attacked Midtown High. The barrage happened during the school's lunch hours. The members shattered the school's cafeteria wall for entrance. They said they were looking for Spider-man.

Spider-man is one of New York City's newer heroes. He appears to be much younger than other capes and masks like The Avengers. Not much is known about him. Daily Bugle Communication's owner and anchorman John Jonah Jameson has said Spider-man is a menace. Many citizens appear to agree with him. However, some are changing their minds after witnessing Spider-man in action.

The Frightful Four only had three members upon their intrusion. They were The Wizard, Thundra and Klaw. They said that their last member Trapster had been arrested earlier that day thanks to Spider-man. They had reason to believe that the targeted hero was at Midtown High. It is unknown what led them to hold such insights.

Midtown High students hid behind support beams and underneath cafeteria tables for protection. One student, Peter Parker, was allegedly attacked by Klaw. As said by The Wizard, the student was to "be made an example of."

When he was freed, Parker threw a plate at the criminal. He then prompted the school to fight back. The students used food and trays as means of weapons. Spider-man arrived minutes later.

A fight broke out between Spider-man and The Frightful Four. Spider-man used the group's force against them. The Frightful Four wielded tables to attack and defend themselves. By his webs, Spider-man successfully subdued Thundra.

The Wizard took several students hostage. He employed his anti-gravity device on them. He imposed them as a shield. Spider-man was quick in thinking and slid underneath the group. He shot his webs and threw The Wizard into the school's hallway.

The Frightful Four made their escape just before New York City Police arrived. Spider-man had also disappeared around that time.

"It was a good thing Spider-man showed up," Eugene Thompson said. Also known as Flash, he is Midtown High's quarterback and self-proclaimed number one fan of the hero. "I was prepared to help Spider-man out. But he knew what he was doing. He probably scared off that group. One thing better than a pep rally for me is seeing him kick butt."

Only one student was in critical condition. Harry Osborn, son of OsCorp owner Norman Osborn, was assaulted. His alleged attacker was Klaw. Harry was escorted to the hospital by his father.

Norman Osborn gave no comments after the attack. He later gave out a public statement.

"My son Harry is currently in the hospital," Osborn said in his public statment. "I am proud to say that he is making a full recovery. I will also see to it that The Frightful Four get reprimanded. Along with anyone else who may have been involved for that slapdash work."

According to the police, they currently have no leads in locating the group. They were unable to say who else was involved, if any. Midtown High's principal said that the school will work with the local law enforcements on investigating the matter.

 _An image of Spider-man battling against The Frightful Four was available on the page. The caption read "Spider-man creamed Frightful Four with creamed corn."_

 _The photo was taken by Midtown High student Peter Parker._

 **End school article**


	3. It's Just a Nightmare I

**Author's notes:** Was re-watching the episode when I got the idea. Enjoy!

 **Summary:** A look into Norman's nightmare from S1E13 "Strange".

 _ **It's Just a Nightmare I**_

 ** _A man shuffled inside the waiting room. Eerie lights came through the thin, rectangular windows. He ran his fingers through his messy brown hair. Around him were many seats connected by a metal pole underneath. He couldn't sit down. He was worried. His wife was in the delivery room.  
_**

 ** _He knew he should be delighted. The couple was expecting a baby boy. But his gut warned him that something wasn't right. She would always assure him. She insisted that she was fine, that he was worrying too much. There was something that was telling him otherwise. His treading stopped when he heard the doors opened._**

 ** _Inside walked a stout man. His glasses reflected the light, shielding his eyes. He wore a set of scrubs.  
_**

 ** _Norman looked at the man. A set of silence fell between them. This unholy quietness stretched from the windows, wrapping around each seat, consuming the white and blue tiles. It seemed almost unbreakable.  
_**

 _ **"**_ ** _ **I have some bad news," the doctor began. "Your wife didn't make it."**_**

 _ **"**_ ** _ **What?" Norman gasped. "How could that have been? When did… Emily…"**_**

 ** _The name of his sweet wife fell from his mouth. He could never call her again._**

 _ **"**_ ** _ **We tried to save her," the doctor explained. "I'm afraid that there were a number of complications."**_**

 ** _Norman lost his voice. He couldn't believe that the love of his life was gone forever. She had been filled with an unmatched joy when she unfolded the news about her pregnancy. She had always carried herself with a marvelous strength. That wasn't enough to have provided salvation from the birthing process. Now he didn't know what he would do without her._**

 _ **"**_ ** _ **I'm afraid there's more bad news," the doctor continued.**_**

 ** _Norman looked back up to the man. He doubted anything worse could happen. He listened anyways._**

 _ **"**_ ** _ **We couldn't do anything for the infant," the doctor added. "The child was a stillborn."**_**

 ** _Norman stood in place. He disbelieved what he had been told. It was like his ears had betrayed him. He not only lost his wife, but the child she had carried as well. All the love the husband and wife, who were overjoyed to soon be a father and mother, washed away._**

 ** _Usually his rage took control of him. He would have yelled at the doctors and nurses for their unprofessional work. He would have tormented the hospital. Yet he couldn't summon his rage. He had nothing. Everything he had in him poured out like a sieve in the sand. He could never hold his wife again. He never even had the chance to hold the infant._**

 ** _The broken man fell to his knees. In a black void he was left alone._**

 _"_ _ _It's open night mic here in the nightmare lounge. And I'd like to kick things off with a little number I call: There's Nothing to be Afraid of; It's Just a Nightmare!"__

The friendly voice rang throughout the city. The wicked spell imprisoning the citizens broke.

Norman awoke. He found himself in his home office. He was alone.

Healthy sunlight shined through the wide window panes. The office kept a cool temperature from the blowing A/C unit. Everything seemed to have this calmness to it, like the first moments after a raging storm turned away. It had released its victims thanks to one heroic voice.

That voice sounded familiar. But such an observation seemed trivial.

Norman ignored the stable atmosphere. He overlooked what had caused him to lose precious work hours. He could only focus on his horrible vision. He recalled the special someone he lost. That was real. His beloved wife Emily Osborn had died. All that was left of her was her final gift, their child.

A sudden shock came through the man.

"Harry!"

He sprung up from his seat and bolted towards the door.

* * *

Norman arrived at Midtown High. He noticed all the rest of the citizens awakening. He had little clue what had happened. He had no time to observe or ask questions. He needed to find his son.

He raced onto the school grounds. Students who had been out on the field at the time were making their way back inside. Chatters and mutters filled the hallways.

Norman looked past the cumbersome sea of students. He grew distress. He couldn't find the one he was searching for. Such anguish would soon envelope him, never releasing him. He felt an unbearable isolation.

"Dad!" a voice cried, breaking the desolation.

Norman looked up. He turned relieved seeing his son racing towards him. "Harry!"

The two embraced each other.

Harry trembled in his father's grip. No doubt he was recovering from his own horrid vision.

The older Osborn maintained his tender grasp. No longer was he performing the acts of a businessman. He was now being a parent to his son. He sensed the distress. He urged to sooth it.

"It's all right," Norman tried to comfort. "We're still together. A united family. That's what matters."

He could feel his boy start to relax.

A day never went by where Norman didn't think about Emily. He wanted to keep her last gift to him close by. The downer memories relentlessly plagued him. Sometimes, late at night, he berated himself. He hated how he was powerless. He believed he had failed as a husband to protect his wife. He would also wonder if something worse could have happened. But he had his relief right in his arms. As the father rubbed his son's back, he fought to banish such thoughts.

After all, it was just a nightmare.

 **End** _**It's Just a Nightmare I**_


	4. It's Just a Nightmare II

**Author's notes:** Meh. Why not? Slight inspiration from _Ultimate Spider-Man #5_.

 **Summary:** A look into Harry's nightmare from S1E13 "Strange".

 _ **It's Just a Nightmare**_ _ **II**_

 _ **A teen with auburn hair was in his bedroom. He sat in a black task chair next to his computer desk. By him was a spotless window that showed a clear night sky. The stars were easy to see compared to the city that paraded lights. The only time he spent nights in the city was when he was able to accompany his father on his business trips.**_

 _ **Living out in their Osborn manor had its advantages. There was definitely more space for bike riding. The air was also cleaner. Nights were peaceful without all the shouting and congested traffic. But not all was glamorous. For even when the father and son were home together, the father preferred to spend his time in his office. Working was all he did.**_

 _ **Harry leaned back in his desk chair. He wanted Norman to review his homework. He would soon be heading to high school. He wanted to prove he wasn't some dumb kid. The businessman, however, remained focused on his trade. Harry wondered if he should have fought for him to stay out of his lab. At least for tonight. A dreadful feeling had grown in his gut.**_

 _ **A loud explosion boomed.**_

 _ **The fire alarm sounded off.**_

 _ **Startled, Harry jumped from his swivel chair. He darted towards the bedroom door. When he came to the hallway, he was greeted only by thick, black smoke. His eyes watered. He coughed as he had trouble breathing. Yet he wasn't concerned with his own safety. He needed to find his remaining family.**_

" _ **Dad!" he yelled. He didn't hear a response. Concern and anxiety latched themselves against him. "Dad!"**_

 _ **He aimed to find his way to his father's office. The immense heat made him disoriented. He strained his mind to figure out his right from his left. The manor was huge. All directions began to look similar. He heard cracking. Barely, he sprung away from a crumbling ceiling.**_

 _ **At that moment, he felt a hand on him. He turned around and spotted a team of firefighters. They grabbed him and pulled him away from the growing flames. They made their own exit with their axes. The night air offered some salvation. The teen was cleared. He didn't feel relieved. He tried to fight them off.**_

" _ **I have to go back!" he begged. "My dad is still in there!"**_

" _ **It's too late!" one firefighter yelled. "The flames have completely taken over!"**_

 _ **Harry turned back to the manor. Just beyond the blaze he spotted a horrific creature. This terrible beast carried green skin and yellow eyes. It was clearly some monster. Yet it seemed so familiar. The frightful creature used its powerful form to depart, deserting the manor and the teen.**_

" _ **Dad!" Harry cried.**_

 _ **Tears streamed down his cheeks. He could only watch as the ravaging flames consumed their home.**_

" _It's open night mic here in the nightmare lounge. And I'd like to kick things off with a little number I call: There's Nothing to be Afraid of; It's Just a Nightmare!"_

The familiar, friendly voice rang throughout the city. The wicked spell imprisoning the citizens broke.

Harry awoke. He found himself in his classroom. The windows had their blinds pulled up, permitting the sunlight to come through. Around him were his classmates. Each one held an expression of confusion. They looked at one another as they sought answers. Everyone appeared to be safe.

That voice sounded familiar. Like he came into contact with it on a regular basis. But Harry ignored it. He felt his heart racing. That wasn't any nightmare. Some parts held truth.

There was a reason the Osborns lived in a penthouse above Oscorp instead of their manor outside the city. A fire had started. The caused was something chemical and electrical related. That had happened before Harry started high school. Repairs went underway and were completed. They never moved back in.

A chilling fear returned. "Dad!"

Dismissing himself, Harry bolted from his desk and sprinted to the door.

* * *

Harry burst into the hallway. He noticed the rest of his peers were awakening. No one showed any notions for an explanation. He had no time to observe or ask questions. He needed to find his father.

He searched for an exit. He needed to find a way back to Oscorp; the penthouse where they now resided. Students who had been out on the athletic field at the time were making their way back inside. Chatters and mutters filled the hallways.

Harry looked past the cumbersome sea of students. He grew distress. Despite standing with his peers, he felt alone. But above the crowd was someone he recognized.

"Dad!" he happily cried.

Norman looked up. He turned relieved seeing his son racing towards him. "Harry!"

The two embraced each other.

The older Osborn kept his strong, protective hold. No doubt he was recovering from his own troublesome apparition.

Harry trembled in his father's grip. He was overjoyed that he was alright. On that frightening night the two had been reunited after they had been rescued. Fortunately, no injuries fell on either of them. Harry never told Norman that he was still haunted by that memory. He always feared losing his only family. Recalling that harrowing night, he quickly tightened his grip.

"It's all right," Norman tried to comfort. "We're still together. A united family. That's what matters."

The teen loosened his hold.

That was true. The fire didn't permanently separate the remaining Osborn family. While it took some adjustments learning to live on top of Oscorp, they had each other. He began to relax feeling his father rub his back. They had their differences, but they were still a family. There was no need to allow a past incident to completely control them.

After all, it was just a nightmare.

 **End** _**It's Just a Nightmare**_ _ **II**_


	5. Lock Up

**Author's notes:** This one shot originally was a scene for a chapter that was to be a part of a story. I couldn't figure out how to go about writing an entire AU fanfic. But this piece was too good for me to just delete it. So I made some minor adjustments. I've always enjoyed watching Norman play a villain. Now I see why people enjoy writing him as a major villain.

While skimming through the _Ultimate_ reboot comics, I found it strange how Harry becomes The Hobgoblin, not a Green Goblin. This includes having yellow skin over green with red eyes over yellow. It did mutate him into a physical monster like Norman. Why was this? IDK. Then again, in the same series Peter was bitten by a spider infused with the Oz serum rather than a radioactive one. That's a reboot for you.

 **Summary:** Alternate Universe. The Goblin chats with Harry about the Osborn destiny.

" **Lock Up"**

An explosion burst out of a warehouse.

"You won't win!" Venom shouted, zooming out of the smoke. He bore his sharp teeth. His long tongue swung around. "We will dessstroy you! Finisssh you!"

The Goblin also flew out of the eruption. He maintained his balance on his glider. His ride was far larger from his previous craft. The shape appeared to carry more materials. Looking at who attacked him, he became unfazed. "Ah, the symbiote my old employee was working on. What pitiful soul attached himself to you?"

Venom worked his extended claws to slash his enemy. But The Goblin was out of reach thanks to his hefty glider. Despite the machine's extensive size, he effortlessly wavered between streetlights and signs. Venom could only stretch his arms for a chance to slaughter. Once he saw his attacks were fruitless, he tried springing towards his foe. The Goblin, while he had his own brute strength, also carried his weapons. Around one hand was a gray gauntlet. As Venom leaped towards him, he shot electricity.

The spark was one of the symbiote's weakness. The black goop with threads of white spread apart for a moment, revealing its host. Underneath the slime was a blond adolescent with blue eyes. The keeper did seem familiar to The Goblin. He ignored that footnote.

Venom screamed. Overwhelmed by the power of electricity, he swayed to the side. He collided against the asphalt, creating a tiny crater. He was unable to lift himself back up. Perhaps Venom could have lasted longer on the battlefield if its host was more adapted to fighting than racing across a sports field.

"Well, that wasted my precious time," The Goblin mumbled to himself.

Keeping his glider above the street, he inspected the hole. His opponent wasn't much of a fight. His pointy ears picked up the sound of feet running towards him. His yellow eyes noticed a growing shadow. Immediately, he jumped aside. He missed being slashed by a red blade. Turning around, he spotted another creature covered in a red and black color scheme.

"You can't defeat me!" the attacker taunted. "Chaos is under my control! Carnage is order!"

The Goblin easily dodged her attacks. Nonchalantly, he replied, "So the symbiote had an offspring. Let's see if it responded to evolution."

Like the one before, he shot his electricity.

The jolt worked against the red symbiote. As it fell apart, the goop revealed the owner. Underneath the crimson slime was a girl with red hair and green eyes. However, progress did prove itself. The shock didn't give as much effect. Lifting one hand, she morphed her fist into a spiked ball. She was preparing to strike.

"Hmm," The Goblin observed. He was slightly impressed. The scientist within him stirred. However, his monstrous form took control once more. "Perhaps I'll need to adjust the power."

Flipping a dial on his wrist, he did just that. The zap came at a powerful force. Carnage Queen struggled to keep herself together. Her pride kept her from shrieking.

"Leave them alone!" a different voice ordered.

The Goblin searched to see who commanded him. He grinned. "Ah, just who I wanted to see."

He turned off his electricity.

Carnage Queen was free. But she was depleted of energy. Though she was tough, she was not one trained for battle. She collapsed on the empty street.

Someone had jumped and was now standing in front of her. He was far from the average build. He had pointy ears, yellow skin, and burning red eyes. Bits of auburn hair rested on top of the scalp. He was similar to the monster terrorizing the other teens. But he was smaller. He was more like a Hobgoblin.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he demanded to know.

"I'm merely looking to have a word with my son," the green monster replied.

Hobgoblin grunted. He believed The Goblin was searching for someone else. As he assisted the girl to stand, he spotted the crater that housed Venom. Enraged, he shouted, "Get outta here! We lost our tracking for The Lizard when you decided to randomly attack us!"

"I can't leave. I'm far from done here." The Goblin summoned a Pumpkin Bomb from his glider. He shot it. As the weapon flew towards Hobgoblin and Carnage Queen, a webbed up ball knocked it out of place.

"Just the retaliation I was expecting," the green brute smirked.

"He's here," the two teens muttered.

Landing between the young adults and The Goblin was someone wearing the familiar red and blue costume.

"If it isn't Spider-man," The Goblin observed. "It's been awhile since our paths have crossed. Last time I saw him, he didn't have as many arms."

Spider-man rose his head.

"He also didn't have any fangs," The Goblin remarked. "I wonder what could've happened?"

The spider-like teen snarled. He spat. The Goblin avoided the saliva. A wall behind dissolved as it was hit by acid.

A trip to the Savage Land had gone wrong. Something had activated the mutation within Spider-man. He was not only savage. He had grown two extra pairs of arms. He now had a total of eight limbs. The exact same number as a spider. He had also developed a pair of fangs around his mouth. Brown fur-like texture covered his once human complexion. His mask was torn but still covered his eyes. Before S.H.I.E.L.D. could help him, Spider-man, lost and confused, broke free. There was no time to hunt him down properly as The Goblin had risen. To augment the trouble, with himself free of his former employer, Doc Ock had set up his own evil schemes. The mad scientist was planning on bringing out his Sinister Six.

The wall-crawler was not alone. He had gathered his own team, which now coalesced once again. Standing against The Goblin was Savage Spider-man, Carnage Queen, Venom, and Hobgoblin. The villain had yet to move from his spot.

"Spider-man's change has nothing to do with you!" Hobgoblin yelled. "But if you insist on fighting, get ready to face The Midtown Marauders!"

That name struck fear. Perhaps in another dimension that name could've brought a sense of comfort. But now the group was under Doctor Octopus.

"I guess I can kill another five minutes." The Goblin launched his Pumpkin Bomb.

The quartet scattered. Such explosions made the symbiotes uneasy. Their adversary perceived that. As the green monster tried to knock down Venom and Carnage Queen, Savage Spider-man enacted his best in protecting them. Even though he had grown wild, he recognized his buddies. He no longer had his web-shooters. He didn't need them. Not only did his original wrists produce its own webbing, so did his added limbs. That extra ammo did perplexed The Goblin. But he continued to work for his goal.

The Goblin used another one of his weaponry. He shot his Razor Bats. The sharp edges sliced through Savage Spider-man. Even though his newer limbs created a reliable fighting source, they were still a part of him. Those Razor Bats damaged him just as badly. Wailing, he ceased his webbing and dropped down.

Venom and Carnage Queen refused to allow their team to go down. Furious with how his assailant knocked him down before, Venom tried once more to attack him. "Vengeanccce isss mine!"

The Goblin's machine granted him distance once more. He found those symbiotes a nuisance. What particularly annoyed him was how the black one was a result of his previous employee's work. How he hated that man. As he rushed down the street, he noticed something tailing him. He spotted flashes of yellow crawling against the walls of the buildings. He was ready to put his plan into place.

"How charming to see this team work together," The Goblin proclaimed. "Especially since Peter Parker is Spider-man!"

Hobgoblin's eyes widened. As he was planning to pounce on his father, hearing that knowledge shocked him. He missed his target. He fell to the ground.

Pleased that he had eluded one team member, his glider released two containers. They fell on the street. They unfurled. The Goblin rested himself in the center. The two symbiotes rushed towards him. Taking his Pumpkin Bombs, he tossed his weapons at them. The explosion threw them off. As Venom and Carnage Queen were caught in a daze, The Goblin tackled them both with his ride.

Both Venom and Carnage Queen crash landed in the traps. Rising up, they tried to bash against the clear panes. Their strikes were no match against the sturdy material. The prisons activated their electric defense. They cried in pain. They could only remain in the center. The symbiotes were powerless to escape.

"What did you do?!" Hobgoblin yelled, toiling to bring himself to his feet. He was still aching from his unprolific battle against The Lizard. He had his own fair share of claw marks across his yellow build.

"Simply putting away the criminals," The Goblin replied. "S.H.I.E.L.D. can escort them to the Vault."

The Vault was a maximum security prison that detained supervillains. While the main location was in Rocky Springs, Colorado, other prisons under the same control were sprinkled throughout the country.

Recovering from his attack, Savage Spider-man looked up. He spotted that his friends were in danger. He bolted towards them. Without holding back, his fists struck. His strength did produce noticeable dents. But it would still take time before the entire trap would break.

"Don't worry about us, Tiger," the girl tried to assure. She was already aware of who was under the mask. Everyone in the Midtown Marauders was familiar with the others. She encouraged, "Focus on The Goblin. Don't let him get away with this."

While Savage Spider-man was tending to his buddies, The Goblin raised his electric gauntlet. He already knew who he needed. He sent a wave of electricity towards Hobgoblin. Helpless, the mutated teen was forced to come towards the green beast.

"Hey!" Hobgoblin yelled. "What are you doing?! Let me go!"

Hearing the shouts of his best friend caused Savage Spider-man to turn back around. The depths of his chaotic mind recalled the true nature behind The Goblin. He remembered the vile identity that harmed the young Osborn. Roaring, he sprinted towards him.

Now that the green beast had snagged who he wanted, he was prepared to leave. But he still had one more obstacle to overcome. Flying above, he had his glider release a snare. A giant web toppled over the spider-teen. Using his many arms, he tried to break free. But his powerful strength was worthless.

"Having fun trapped in a web?" The Goblin grinned at the irony. "I think you'll find this one to be quite _shocking_."

The trap set off electricity. Savage Spider-man screamed in pain.

Hobgoblin could only gasp as he watched in horror.

The streets filled with a chilling laughter courtesy of The Goblin. Satisfied with his work, he began to fly away.

Carnage Queen and Venom witnessed the terrible action from behind their pane. The girl tried once more to free herself. The electricity activated, hurting her.

"Harry!" she shouted. The symbiote split from her face, showing her frightened green eye.

Hobgoblin looked behind him. "No! M.J.! Flash!"

His eyes fell on the other mutated teen. He became speechless.

Savage Spider-man forlornly watched as The Goblin took off holding his prisoner. The mutated creature roared. His cries parted from sounding like a wounded animal. He was crying after the loss of his best friend.

* * *

The teen awoke. He felt dizzy. He found himself strapped to a chair.

Harry Osborn struggled with his shackles. They clattered as he raised his wrists, moving the restraints only a couple of centimeters. He was unable to break free. His average fortitude proved useless, and his whole body was sore. He also felt a strange irritation on the back of his neck.

The space around him appeared like a normal living room. There were couches with side tables, potted plants, a bookcase, a wooden floor, and a circular rug in the center. On the wall above the electric fireplace was a portrait of a man. He had brown hair and wore a suit. Harry knew it was his father, Norman Osborn, owner of Oscorp. He could tell it was recently commissioned. The eye color was a sickening green instead of his normal blue. No doubt he had been altered by the wicked Goblin serum.

A door slammed shut on the other end.

Surprisingly, the shackles retracted into their slits. Harry wondered if now was his chance to escape before he could land in anymore danger. He grunted, trying to bring about his Hobgoblin powers, but he stayed in his human form. "What's going on?! Why can't I change?!"

"Don't even bother trying to transform," a familiar voice from the shadows sneered. "I've given you a drug that will dormant your Hobgoblin abilities for a full forty-eight-hour period."

The back of the teen's neck itched. At least now he had an answer for its cause.

Looking up, Harry spotted The Goblin standing several yards away from him. He glared at the monster. Because of the narcotic, his brawniness was stolen from him. His muscles ached. He bore trouble keeping his head up. But that didn't cease his enmity. His mind still raced with what took place.

"Why did you take me?" he asked, his voice unafraid to exhibit his displeasure. "Wasn't it _Peter_ you were always after? You had your chance."

His eyes expanded with rage. "Why didn't you take it?!"

Silence exchanged itself in the room.

Panting, Harry restlessly awaited a response. He recalled the years Norman neglected him, abandoned him. He was aware of how much his father favored his best friend over him. Somehow the man had figured out that Spider-man is Peter Parker. He needed answers.

The Goblin looked at the auburn boy in amusement. He knew of his limitations. To him, Harry was nothing but a rat dog yapping at a wolf. He steadily replied, "Peter does show promise with his bright mind, yes. But his skills for the world of business need a little… _refurbishing_ before he can fully become an Osborn. That's where you come in."

Harry loosened his fists. He couldn't believe his ears. His father had praised him, given him approval for a talent he carried that his best bud didn't. But he refused to allow that commendation to control him. He couldn't fall into the devious man's clutches.

"Well you can forget about me helping you at all!" he shouted. "I'm fed up being used by you!"

"But you're fine with your employment under _Octavious_?" The Goblin challenged. His voice was strong but carried an odd undertone. He almost sounded hurt and betrayed.

Carnage Queen, Venom, Hobgoblin, and Savage Spider-man. Those names struck fear into the people of New York City. They had teamed up with Otto Octavious, also known as Doctor Octopus. The evil scientist was an enemy against S.H.I.E.L.D. Octavious was a rival of Osborn. They had their supplies in their base of operation, Midtown High.

"We were only hunting down members for his Sinister Six," Harry grumbled.

That was their job—to recruit other supervillains to obey a man with mechanical limbs. Savage Spider-man and his team had their powers to aid them. Their only issues were city police, remaining heroes, and bad guys who may resist the invitation. The Lizard, a scientist and S.H.I.E.L.D. employee named Curt Connors, was on that list. But he escaped when The Goblin crashed the chase.

"My point exactly," The Goblin replied. "You're soiling your hands for someone else. Octavious needs a pathetic team to carry out his little projects. I've managed to achieve my goals via my own talents."

Harry listened but refuted the response. He understood the rivalry between Doc Ock and The Goblin, between Otto Octavious and Norman Osborn. He didn't care about that. He only saw the battle as a childish way to prove who was the greater scientist.

"So what about Spider-man?" he asked. "You plan to have him stay like _that_?"

"Solving for X will be simple once I find the root. Of course, I'll be careful in what my antidote will do." The Goblin rashly grinned, "Be a shame to lose all that power."

Harry grew disturbed but also enraged. "But you still want Spider-man? He's the one who defeated you over and over again. Now that you know he's Peter you're just _fine and dandy_ with that?"

"I could ask you the same thing. You weren't too happy with Spider-man going up against The Goblin once you realized who it was."

Harry grunted. At one time he couldn't battle against his father. Yet his viewpoint altered once he saw the man's true colors, which was a repugnant green. Forgiveness would be hard to deliver once he witnessed the harm that came to his buddies. He had enough of the deception. He had enough of the rejection. The hypocrisy sickened him. He grumbled, "Says the man who keeps up false appearances."

The Goblin was quiet, as though he were contemplating what the adolescent had muttered. "I believe I can talk to my son in my other form."

Harry watched as the beast retracted itself into the familiar industrialist. He grew surprised. His father was far more capable of shifting appearances than he was. To Norman, the act was as simple as switching costumes. The man now wore his usual smirk. He kept his altered green eyes on the teen in front of him.

After sitting in silence for a moment, Harry mumbled, "So no one knows that the great Norman Osborn, head of Oscorp, is actually The Green Goblin."

"Of course not," Norman replied, his voice poised yet robust. He grabbed his business jacket off a chair and placed it over himself. "That'll be bad for business. Enemies of Oscorp and enemies of The Goblin are separated right now. They could collaborate to bring about my end if word got out. Until then, it is a secret."

Looking at his boy, he smirked, "And I know I'm not the only one who has kept it."

Aggravated, Harry turned away. Those who knew about the man's dual identity was a small group. As Norman's son, he would be a reliable source should he give any leads to any news medium. He had kept his mouth shut. He had his reasons. "Why'd you bring me here in the first place?"

"Harry, why wouldn't I? I'm your father. It's my job to safeguard you."

"Since when? From what?"

"You shouldn't associate yourself with _Octavious_. He has only shown feeble diplomacies. Your place is here, at Oscorp. By my side."

"Sorry if I don't find your invite so welcoming." Harry understood his father was using his usual tricks in order to get him to obey.

"My invite should be the most trustworthy. We are Osborns. We have a vast empire to run. We can have it all. Father and son. With no one being able to stop us. Not Octavious. Not S.H.I.E.L.D. And if he continues to resist, not even Spider-man."

The auburn teen grew furious recalling his best friend. He argued back, "I'm not just an Osborn!"

"You will always be an Osborn first," the father sternly replied. "All that you are. All that you've ever come to possess. Everything has its origin from your genes, my genes. Even The Goblin."

Harry declined that statement. He wanted to make something of himself. "No! If that's what it means to be an Osborn, then I reject that name!"

Norman turned around and faced his son. He was boggled by that announcement. "What?!"

"You believe everything good that's happen to me is because of that last name! But while you were out being this Goblin, I was making things better for myself!" Harry spat, deciding to unleash what he had been privately carrying. "Despite what you believe, I was doing much better at Midtown High than I was at Standard! You may want him as your son, but Peter is my best friend! He didn't mind giving me his time of day to tutor me! I had actual friends! I was even about to get a real girlfriend—"

"Girlfriends are replaceable," Norman spat back. He believed he needed to pull his son out of his fantasy and back to reality "Friends will dissipate your talents and stab you in the back. But your family… Family is forever."

The young adult growled. He came to terms with people using him for his money and connections. That was what made the intelligent brunet and the spunky redhead so different. He refused to allow that line to shake him. He needed to strike back. He muttered, "Replaceable, huh? Even Mom?"

That objectional remark struck the industrialist hard. He marched forward. His face steamed like a boiling heater. Placing his hands down on the sides of the chair, he trapped his boy in between his arms. He bellowed, "Don't you _ever_ speak of her that way!"

Harry gave no retort. He stayed down. The city found The Goblin terrifying. But Harry was aware of the true wrath that Norman could display and give.

The businessman fought to restrain himself. He pulled himself away from the chair. He then straightened out his jacket. Calmly, he muttered, "Your mother, rest her soul, did all she could for you. She gave herself up just to have you. You should always show respect towards that."

Harry became cautious. But he couldn't submit himself. Not this time. "So what if me, Peter and… Venom and Carnage Queen were working for Ock?"

He was careful of what more he revealed. He couldn't risk the safety of his other two cohorts, who were also his buddies. He continued, "After I became The Hobgoblin, what was I supposed to do? You were gone. I at least had shelter at Midtown High. Why are you taking this all so personally, anyway?"

"Osborns help themselves. You are my first born son. My family."

"Again with your idea of family. From what I remember, Ock was once working for you. He did stuff for you. Stuff that wasn't even legal. Wasn't _he_ part of the _family_?"

Norman was quiet. While he had his plots to carry out, he never intended for his worlds to cross. He had always distanced his other business from his boy. But such an option was no longer available. His once underling now enemy had dragged Harry into this other world. "When Octavious gets taken down and his plans are dashed—which they will be—he will be locked away. That will include his Sinister Six team, plus anyone who had been affiliated with him."

He turned to the teen. "That's why you won't be with him. I won't have you tossed into a cell with common criminals. Imagine the consequences. Those damn news outlets like Jameson and his _Daily Bugle_ or Bushkin and his _Daily Globe_ will trash Oscorp. They're like jackals after a piece of meat. The only leverage The Goblin has with Urich of _The Front Line_ is some dirt on his nephew. He does show more promise to be a Hobgoblin than you."

Disheartened, Harry lowered his head. His father didn't care about him. The man only cared about his reputation. He cherry-picked the definition of family.

"There's no controlling Octavious and his imbecilic goals," Norman continued, overlooking his son's reaction. "He'll do whatever he pleases. I have no doubts he would've betrayed you and whoever else aided him. That's why I pulled you away. I'm keeping you safe. And when you work with me, we can protect Peter as well."

"Did you see what you did as The Goblin back there?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "You just threw away our other teammates. Our friends. What makes you think Peter would want to be an Osborn at all? Why did you turn in Spider-man to the Vault?"

"I may have become The Goblin, but Oscorp still has its empire to expand. I became one of the owners for the Vault and voted to have a location open here in New York. Freeing Spider-man should be less of a problem. As for Peter, there are many doors that the Osborn name can open for him. I can also imagine Peter wouldn't anything else to come to his own best friend."

Harry fell silent. He had witnessed his father work as head of Oscorp. Now that he was The Goblin, he had become ruthless in accomplishing whatever he wanted. Somberly, he turned his gaze towards the ground. He debated if joining The Goblin, his own father, was his only option. Perhaps, if he struck the deal, he could request a pardon for his captured buddies.

Norman was pleased with what he saw. Despite their argument, he was actually proud that his boy was not surrendering himself so easily. As an Osborn, Harry needed to be strong. He needed to ensure a stable cooperation, one where nobody would steal his son away from him.

"Of course, you will need to make a final change," he conditioned. "All you need to do is cut your unfruitful ties with not only Octavious, but also those with the wretched symbiotes."

Disbelieving the demand, Harry shot up his head. "What?"

The man added in a disgusted tone, "Those hosts to those symbiotes are nothing but children. Regardless of their own circumstances, they also chose to support Octavious. You're either with me or against me. Frankly, I'm not even sure how you made those connections in the first place. And if Spider-man does stand by them, well, I can't guarantee that those inmates inside the Vault wouldn't want a chance to whack the so-called hero who sent them there in the first place."

Harry had about as all as he could take. None of his pals took pride in working with Doc Ock. They had made that pack to help the others survive after gaining their own curse. He couldn't abandon them. Gathering his strength, he stood up from his seat. "No!"

"No?" Norman repeated. He grew surprised with how his boy managed to garner some muscle despite the given stimulant.

Standing on his feet, the teen bellowed, "I'm sick of supporting you when all you did was criticize me! I can't forgive what you did to my friends! You can forget about your deals! I won't join you! EVER!"

He huffed. Out of energy, he fell back down on the chair.

Norman couldn't believe what his son was denying. He seethed. "You're choosing those _others_ over _me_?! Your own _father_?!"

Pushing himself up, the teen stared back. "I'm standing by my _friends_."

Their burning eyes remained locked.

Norman stared at the auburn boy. He could tell that he would stand by his position. He had to break him of that vile rebel character. "Well, then, if that's the way it'll be…"

He reached over and snatched the back of the teen's shirt. He effortlessly rose him above the chair. Though in human form, he still retained his Goblin strength.

"Hey!" Harry cried. "What are you doing?!"

He tried to break free of the man's strong grip, but his body was still far too weak. The drug maintained its control over him.

Norman ignored his son's howling. Keeping the boy above in hand, he marched towards the other end of the room. He pressed a sequence of numbers on a keypad. A hidden door slid open.

Harry glanced inside. The room was too dark to see anything. His heart raced even faster. "Just what are you planning?!"

"A little discipline," the man steadily replied. He smoothly tossed the adolescent into the confided space.

Harry yelped as he landed on his side. The ground was soft, like it had been padded. The only lights emitting came from the outside. He grunted as he glared at the notorious businessman. Norman's tall, dominating figure was outlined by the light.

His silhouette ordered, "You can come out when you're ready to accept your destiny."

Realizing the severity of the situation, Harry's eyes widened. He tried to stand up. His heart raced as fear engulfed his mind. "Dad! Please! No!"

He failed to make it towards the exit. The door slid closed. He crashed into the wall. Like the ground, the closed-off exit was padded. His weak legs caved in under his weight. Losing his balance, he fell back to the soft floor. He was now completely surrounded by darkness.

"Damn…"

A few tears made their way down his cheeks. He had been separated from his friends, Mary Jane and Flash. His best friend, Peter, had been seriously injured. He was now trapped, just like they were. As his mind enveloped with its own misery, a memory came to mind.

 _Two students were cleaning up a chemistry lab at Midtown High before it was wrecked. Peter was placing away used beakers and flasks on a cart while Harry re-shelved supplementary reading materials in a bookcase. Both boys were there during the after school hours. One was there to make up a lab, and the other was there for tutoring._

 _Once they finished cleaning and gathered their supplies, Harry remarked to his friend, "You're really good at science. And you're organized… for the most part. Ever thought about starting your own company?"_

" _I may be good at building things and working with chemicals, but my head isn't wrapped for the economics side," Peter replied as he slipped on his backpack. He smiled, "If I ever did, something with a cool name like Parker Industries, I'd hire you in a second."_

" _I'd be your man for the job." Harry smirked, "Sorry I can't say the same for someone with his head in the clouds."_

 _The two laughed._

That was before he realized the truth. He became aware of how busy the brunet was with his heroic duties. How he needed to leave at an instant or arrived so late. And now Peter was trapped in some strange, mutated state. Despite the occasional envy that would arise in the auburn teen, he was best friends with Peter. He recalled how valiantly the transformed teen fought for him against their shared enemy.

"No! I can't give up! I can't let The Goblin win!"

He sat up and aligned his back against the soft wall. His whole body was still sore and unstable from his given drug. But his determination burned on.

"I'll show Norman that I won't cave in so easily. I may have become The Hobgoblin, but that doesn't mean I hafta follow the path of The Goblin. If he wants a fight against an Osborn, then he's got one."

He felt the blowing of air. He figured a vent must be high up. He didn't need to worry about air. He had a forty-eight-hour period until his powers returned. Silently, he waited.

* * *

Remaining in his human form, Norman kept his hands in his pockets as he walked down a flight of stairs. His steps echoed. He was on his way to a secret lab within the Osborn manor. Gathering his son was only a portion of his ultimate plan.

He held no regrets in his chastisement principles. He briefly recalled his own time trapped within a dark mansion, imprisoned by his own father. He shivered. Refusing to allow such misery to dominate him, he shoved down those negative feelings.

"I have something big to achieve," he muttered to himself. "There's no time to dwell on the past."

He came to an underground lab. Giant computer screens mounted the walls. A full-fledged table housed various chemicals and expensive equipment. Machines above and around the room hummed. But the private lab had a few personal touches.

On the wall was a giant portrait. The subject was woman. Presented from her waist up, she wore a sleeveless coral pink turtleneck. She had on a smile that showed off her perfect teeth. Around her lips was a dark colored lipstick. Her pixie hairstyle curved against her features. Her genuine smile squinted her eyes.

Underneath the artwork was a side table. A bottle of champagne rested on top. He poured himself a glass. He wore a large grin.

"I managed to do it, Emily," he spoke towards the artwork, raising his glass. His tone carried his usual arrogance. He sounded proud of himself. "I got our boy back from Octavious. Harry may have shown a little resistance, but that's the Osborn spirit in him. I'll get him to rejoin the family and accept his true role soon enough."

He cackled menacingly, growing from madman to Goblin.

 **End "Lock Up"**


	6. Break Out

**Author's notes:** Once I freshened up "Lock Up", I couldn't help but come up with a second idea. I know "Lock Up" had more angst. I'm hoping to write more action for this one. Enjoy!

 **Spoiler alert!** Regarding _Marvel's Spider-_ _M_ _an_ , the cartoon that immediately came after this USM one, I've only seen a quarter of two episodes.I'm impressed to see old villains like Joseph (no last name given)/Hammerhead and Spencer Smythe to newer ones like Screwball. For anyone who has watched it, you'll understand my choice in writing a certain character as is compared to her (their?) _Amazing_ comics counterpart. It was also great seeing Norman as a villain again. **End spoiler!**

At SoManyQuestions: I'll answer your questions in the next story. For now, I'll say that I'm surprised that someone recognized the Duel Monster's card. As for the account name, _Rubina_ is a Spanish-Italian feminine name for _ruby_. I just so happen to come across it while looking at names intended for original characters.

 **Summary:** Sequel to "Lock Up". Alternate Universe. The Midtown Marauders are reuniting in the Vault. Now they must face The Goblin before they can gain their freedom.

" **Break Out"**

The Vault was a maximum security prison that detained supervillains. The main location was in Rocky Springs, Colorado. With new members on the board of committee, a vote was held to open a new location in New York. Apprehended criminals made their arrival and quickly filled up the cells. New additions debarked frequently. Some entered as early as forty-eight hours ago.

The girl with red hair sat by herself in her private chamber. Though the prison was built to keep enhanced criminals, many of them were adults and male. She was underage and female.

On the other side was a boy with blond hair. He, too, was kept in isolation. He was male, but he was also a minor.

They had been retrieved by S.H.I.E.L.D., who handed them over to the Vault. Neither one could do anything against their holding cell. It was built to protect against symbiote attacks.

There wasn't much for them to do. They felt defeated. But such a gloomy atmosphere changed when an explosion erupted.

"What's happening?!" guards shouted. They bolted towards the source.

"Are we under attack?!"

"Inspect the situation!"

Prisoners rushed to the edge of their cells to investigate the action. Some were laughing and cheering on the dangerous event. Others berated the situation, arguing their status as victims under inhumane conditions.

Hobgoblin emerged. But his appearance differed from before. He retained his muscular body and yellow complexion. His eyes carried that fierce red. However, he seemed less ferocious. He seemed more disciplined. He was also riding his own transportation machine. Yet it wasn't a glider. It was shaped more like a snowboard with the ability to glide.

He zoomed through the prison. His red eyes glanced through the cells. Paying no mind to the whooping scoundrels, he was searching for his friends. His troubles stirred when he flew past the guards. Their ray guns disrupted his goal. Though annoyed, he didn't intend to harm them. He shot a few Pumpkin Bombs that emitted noxious gases. Those frightened off the security, who scrambled for safety. They were already familiar with such trademark armaments. They needed to regroup and plan.

As Hobgoblin aimed to finish his hunt, he spotted someone standing his ground. He skidded to a halt and hovered.

"I figured you stop by," the man nonchalantly greeted.

"But how did you—"

"You're my rebellious, headstrong teenage son. You're not that hard to solve."

Hobgoblin growled. He refused to be insulted. "The forty-eight hours are up! You can't keep me locked up any longer!"

When the amount had expired, he had felt his potency return. Controlling his weakened body brought trouble. But his determination had guided him to bust out of his confinement. He never could agree to the terms that his father made.

A new owner of the Vault shook his head. "Once you destroyed the alcove, you went for those shiny toys. Exactly like a child running from his time out and heading straight for the playroom."

"You shoulda done a better job locking them up. It wasn't so smart to use my name as a password. Anybody else could become a Hobgoblin or even the next Goblin."

"Don't be cocky," Norman scolded. "There's no replacing the original."

The industrialist effortlessly altered his form. He grew in height. His ears became jagged, as did his teeth. His complexion morphed into a jade green. When he opened his eyes, he revealed a change to gold yellow. Those same haunting yellow orbs focused on the teen.

Hobgoblin was aware of the raw power The Goblin carried. He was already told of a vicious plot brewing. He didn't grasp this mini mission in stopping him. "Why'd you come? You own this entire facility. I doubt you'll miss a couple of prisoners."

"Not if those prisoners are traitors."

"I'm not doing this for Ock, since you're so _concerned_ with that."

"Don't go giving me lip. I won't allow you to associate with the feeble subordinates any longer. Because I'm your father, I'm going to give you one last chance."

Hobgoblin despised the insult hurled at his friends. He threw a Pumpkin Bomb. "Here's my answer!"

The Goblin moved aside. Despite the explosion, he showed no shift in demeanor. "I see."

He pressed a button on his gauntlet. Out from the shadows came his own ride. He then popped out one of his own Pumpkin Bombs. As Hobgoblin tried to steer away, the older Osborn shot his weapon. The explosion caused the young outlaw to lose balance.

Hobgoblin continued his gliding. He looked back and noticed The Goblin remained grounded. He wholly expected a retaliation. Yet a small percentage of him was still disappointed towards his only family's action. He looked ahead. Avoiding an oncoming wall, he double backed. His Sky-stick swept through the walking path between levels. Though the structure was large, he was still in an enclosed area. He aimed to avoid anymore guards. He didn't want them to get hurt. He still bore trouble controlling his new device. Only a novice, he was no match against the The Goblin.

The father watched in amusement. He spotted how clumsily his son was working. " _I_ made The Goblin. I _made_ these toys. I made _you_. Osborn blood runs through you. The Goblin formula is in you. I know what you plan to do."

He threw another Pumpkin Bomb.

Hobgoblin felt himself jerking from the explosion. He tumbled off his Sky-stick. He skidded against the ground. His damage skin was scrapped.

"Looks like you need a little corporal punishment," The Goblin remarked. He used his gauntlet.

The electricity shocked the yellow body. Hobgoblin refused to give his enemy any satisfaction. He fought his urge to scream.

"See, Harry, if you had stayed with me, you could've had the proper training." The Goblin grinned as he raised the voltage.

The jolt was too much for the boy to bear. He shrieked.

Down in the cellar held a monster with a total of eight limbs. Around each limb were thick binds with even thicker chains connected to sturdy walls. His red mask with white eyelids clung over his face that bore fangs. Covering his body was still the red and blue costume, albeit a bit torn. On his back remained the red arachnid silhouette.

He, too, was handed over by S.H.I.E.L.D. to the prison. There wasn't much the crime-fighting organization could do right away for their once member. His mutation baffled their scientists. Plus to further the chaos, The Goblin and other big time villains were causing problems all around the city. All they could do was have the monster locked away for the time being.

He heard the disruptions on the main level. The noises didn't concern him. Prisoners rioted and made escape attempts all the time. But one particular shout caught his attention. The familiar scream entered the depths of his savaged mind. He also picked up a diabolical cackling. His eyes narrowed.

The voltage against Hobgoblin ceased. He dropped to the ground. Huffing, he struggled to bring himself up. He stayed down. His body ached from the thrashing.

The Goblin strolled to the defeated adolescent. He snatched a handful of his auburn hair. In a low tone, he voiced his discontent, "Your controlling of the serum is inept."

Hobgoblin couldn't respond. Despite his drive, he was still no match against his father.

The Goblin observed the young adult in front of him. He believed it was time to erase one blemish from his perfect life.

"You were born into this world a loser." He held up his electric gauntlet. The glove sparked. "And you shall exit this world as one."

As he was preparing to unleash his fatal attack, he was kicked by an unknown assailant. Such a powerful assault forced him to release his hostage. He was shoved from his place. When he came around, he saw who he had imprisoned earlier. "So it was you who was foolish enough to try and stop me."

Savage Spider-man had broken free. He appeared wrathful. Yet he wasn't snarling like a wild quadruped.

"And for what?" The Goblin mocked. "Someone as worthless as my son?"

The teen beast gave his protection over Hobgoblin, shielding the other boy with his own body. He growled. He refused to lose his best friend once more.

Hobgoblin looked up. Through his hazy crimson eyes, he spotted the extra limbs. He recognized the color scheme. He whispered, "Spider-man…"

Savage Spider-man turned to his friend. His features softened. The creature with the multiple arms offered one to his buddy. He assisted him to stand up. Step by step, Hobgoblin came to his legs.

The Goblin silently watched his enemy aiding his son. He understood the teamwork. He needed to set the field back to his advantage. Looking around him, he generated an idea. "Let's see how you play the game when we add more players."

Standing by a lever, he pulled it down.

An alarm sounded off. Cell doors slid opened.

The duo listened to the cheers that followed.

Racing out were the felons. The hordes broke into separate groups. Their agendas were leading them. Some were looking to escape. Others were gaining up on the guards. And some were looking to release the even deadlier criminals.

Hobgoblin only wanted to free his friends. Looking towards the mutated teen, he watched Savage Spider-man staring at the convicts. But he didn't appear like he wanted to tear off their limbs. Nor did he seem like he wanted to join them. A new responsibility landed in front of them. "We gotta stop them!"

" _You're_ not going anywhere," The Goblin grinned. He was now holding his Bat Razors.

Hobgoblin and Savage Spider-man turned back to their foe. They understood the arising quandaries.

However, unknown to The Goblin, he created his own problem.

Seeing themselves free, the girl allowed her symbiote to take control. Her appearance shifted. Rather than be covered in red and black, her designed consists of red and green.

The blond boy did the same. Rather than become a giant monster, he appeared more solider-like.

The girl saw the Vault guards were struggling to maintain the peace. They were becoming overwhelmed with the amount of rampaging inmates. The criminals formed mobs. With the increase in numbers, they were prepared to start attacking. She raced towards those assemblies. Leaping into the air, she used her own webbings to nab the backs of the guards. She pulled them out of the angered, revenge-seeking crowds. "Carnage Queen is gone for good. Now it's time for Spider-woman to do her part."

The boy witnessed guards being shoved off from the second and third floors. He raced and jumped into the air. Thanks to his magnificent height, he caught them before they could hit the ground. "No need to fear. Agent Venom is here to help."

Meanwhile with Savage Spider-man, The Goblin threw his weapons. The mutated hero propelled his buddy aside. He accepted the rain of Razor Bats. Each one sliced his skin. He cried in pain.

Hobgoblin watched. He couldn't allow his father to continue his heinous acts. He knew he needed to do something. Lifting himself up, he searched for his ride.

As the new heroes took on the onerous situations, a new dilemma began.

From the giant hole in the wall sprung a girl. She was wearing a white jumpsuit with purple stripes along various parts. A white helmet with a matching purple design and a yellow visor covered her head. She openly displayed a wide smile.

"Hey, there, fellow Screwball subscribers!" she spoke aloud. "I'm here live at a maximum security prison. Seems I came for their rec time. Let's get in on some of the action!"

Fearlessly, or perhaps more accurately, foolishly, she entered. She intended to record her stunt through a camera in her helmet. This wasn't the first time she had committed such dotty acts. She had a hit web show that drew numerous viewers. She even had crossed paths with Spider-man, before his mutation. Her views always exploded whenever he tailed her. No regular cop was able to catch her. Her expertise included parkour. She was fast on her feet. She was able to leap. However, her skills wouldn't be much help this show.

"What do we have here?" she asked herself. She noticed strange markings on the ground. They appeared like footprints. But the style appeared scorched, like something had burned through. Captivated, she excitedly shouted, "Let's see where this goes!"

Some of the prisoners noted the newcomer. Feeling devious, they decided to pursue her. Because Screwball was busy filming and hosting, she failed to notice who was hunting her down.

Spider-woman spotted someone in a white jumpsuit. She also observed the many fugitives chasing her. Intruder or not, she knew she had to save her. She shot her webs and came closer. "Hey! You! What do you think you're doing?!"

Screwball turned around. "What does it look like? I'm streaming my show!"

Spider-woman landed on the upper floor. "Don't you see how dangerous this is?"

"That's the fun of it all!" The girl laughed as she raced. She continued to follow the charred footprints.

Spider-woman caught sight of the felons coming towards them. She shot her webs against the walls. The criminals tripped over and began to fall on top of each other. They crowded the pathway. Once they were defeated, Spider-woman resumed to saving Screwball. Unknown to her, another villain also caught the scene.

The Goblin grinned. He jumped on his glider. He guided himself in the direction of the two girls. As he was approaching, Spider-woman was trailing closer to Screwball. She stopped when she felt a strange sensation envelope her brain. Screwball turned around as well. Seeing the danger, her bright smile suddenly dropped.

The Goblin snatched Spider-woman and Screwball.

"No!" Hobgoblin yelled as he witnessed the tragedy.

Savage Spider-man also watched. Ignoring his throbbing body, he ran and jumped. He tried to reach out and save them. But he was beyond the glider's capacity. He came back to the ground.

The green brute laughed. "What's wrong, Spider-man? Unable to save your teammate? It might be the end for them."

The two captives struggled in The Goblin's mighty grip. One was fearing for her life while the other refused to surrender.

"You won't be taking me down so easy this time!" The girl with the symbiote controlled her right hand to form an ax. She smashed it against the glider. Electricity sparked. Her symbiote was peeling off of her.

The Goblin grunted. He began to lose control. "Have it your way!"

He shoved the two off.

As the duo were released, they began to fall. Both girls were unable to grasp their direction. They were becoming dizzy. The possibility of blacking out was nearing.

Savage Spider-man shot his webs. He swung himself up in the air. He caught the girl with red hair.

Hobgoblin, flying on his own transportation mode, followed. He caught Screwball.

The heroes landed in an unoccupied section. They gently set down the two. Mary Jane was recovering from her minor electrocution. Screwball lost her voice as her yellow visor gazed at the other girl. The abrupt movements caused her helmet to sway. Her streaming was interrupted.

Savage Spider-man kept watched over the redhead, worried.

"Hey," Hobgoblin called to her. "You OK?"

Mary Jane groaned. Her symbiote managed to crawl back over her. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The Goblin managed to control his damaged glider. He grew vexed. He eyed the group of teens. All he wanted was his son. Now the masked menace, though physically different, still caused snags in his plans. He drove his ride back towards them.

The Spider-sense activated both for Savage Spider-man and Spider-woman. Hobgoblin recognized their distress. Turning around, he saw The Goblin rushing towards their group. The machine swept past them. The green monster was successful in seizing the mutated teen.

"Spider-man!" Hobgoblin and Spider-woman shouted.

Screwball snapped out of her daze. She became surprised with who was named. She never expected the hero who pursued her was now some sort of creature. Yet he drew no harm to anyone. And now he was in the hands of the dangerous criminal.

The Goblin zoomed around the prison. "You've dashed my plans. You've influenced my son Harry. As Norman Osborn, I didn't let anything stop me. Now that I've evolved as The Goblin, I will be unstoppable."

He rose him up. "You think I plan to be perpetually outdone by _you_?"

Savage Spider-man stared at his foe. He recalled all the pain and misery both Osborn and Goblin gave his friends. He refused to surrender. He spat. His acidic saliva hit the green beast in his face. Howling in pain, the monster dropped his target.

The hero in costume plunged. He shot a web to save himself. He landed on a wall. He turned himself around so he could survey the area. His adversary was recovering from the attack. He released himself. Using his strength and momentum, he knocked off The Goblin.

The green beast dropped to the fourth floor. He shook away his dizziness. When he came to, he spotted Savage Spider-man zipping towards him. He summoned his Pumpkin Bombs. He thrust his weapons. None of them exploded around the hero. He managed to dodge them all.

The Goblin grasped the unstoppable rage produced by his enemy. He looked to bring back his glider. "We're not done yet, Spider-man. I'll get my son back another day."

Savage Spider-man heard the threat. He forbid that to happen. He prepared his sharp claws. He was planning on slicing his adversary.

The Goblin refused to be taken down. He bat his meaty hands against the web-head.

Savage Spider-man sliced his foe as The Goblin whacked him.

"Spider-man!" Hobgoblin and Spider-woman cried. They both hopped on the Sky-stick. They rode it to aid their friend.

The Goblin recovered from his attack. He searched for his ride. He gasped as his glider swooped towards him. He jumped. The machine crashed into the wall. As he dodged the attack, he dove from his high place. He smashed against the ground.

If the wall-crawler had a theme song, now would be the time to play it. Savage Spider-man controlled all his limbs to shoot webs. These organic ones were far longer and thicker compared to his homemade ones. He webbed him to the wall.

The Goblin was now a prisoner in the Vault.

"Spider-man!" his partners called.

Spider-woman jumped from the Sky-stick. She raced towards the mutated teen. She wrapped her arms around him. Savage Spider-man was too dumbfounded to react.

"Now that The Goblin is tied up, we should get out of here." Hobgoblin looked around. "Where's Venom?"

"Over here!" a teen in a black suit replied. "And it's _Agent_ Venom now. Gotta add the cool title first."

"What about the criminals?" Spider-woman asked.

"Taken care of."

The other two looked and saw giant spiderwebs. Some kept the scoundrels in place against the walls, ceilings, and floors. Other webbings kept them in their cells. None of them looked too happy. They swore and made death threats as they shouted.

"You did all this?" they asked, surprised.

"I had to do _something_ while you guys were facing The Goblin," Agent Venom answered. "I couldn't let these bad guys walk free."

"Speaking of letting go," Spider-woman began. "Where did that other girl go?"

Hobgoblin stepped off his machine. He eyed the spot where he left her. She was gone. "Dunno. She was one screwball."

They no longer paid mind to her. In the state of peace, Savage Spider-man pounced on top of Hobgoblin. He squawked and cooed. He was like an overjoyed large dog.

"Looks like someone is happy to see you," Spider-woman remarked. "We all are. Especially after what happened with… The Goblin."

"Yes, yes," Hobgoblin laughed. "I'm fine. I'm happy to see you, too. Let's get outta here, and then I'll tell you more about what happened."

He stood up, and the group searched for an exit. They realized the one Hobgoblin made when he first entered could work. Using their strength and agility, the reunited quartet made their way towards the exit.

A pair of wrathful yellow eyes watched them.

"Harry!" The Goblin yelled. He was still pinned to the wall. He was using his strength to rip away the webs. Bit by bit, he was gaining his freedom. "Harry! You are an Osborn! You can't walk away from your destiny! Don't think I'll be here forever!"

* * *

Away from the chaos stood Screwball. She had safely and inconspicuously made her way out of the Vault. From where she was, she could still see the structure.

The girl removed her white helmet with the yellow visor. Her wavy blond hair cascaded. The beautiful locks flowed past her shoulders. She looked down below with her soft blue eyes. She couldn't believe who she traveled alongside with. Spider-woman and Hobgoblin… Mary Jane Watson and Harry Osborn… Those were her classmates from Midtown High. However, they were no longer her typical peers. And one of those heroes fighting against The Goblin was Spider-man himself. They were all somehow connected with each other.

She reviewed her video. Despite the interrupted show, her camera recorded without fail. The location and fight scenes by superheroes would bring many views. She pulled up the menu. There was the option to upload the remains. The whole world would see it. Every single second.

She pressed delete.

"Liz!" a masculine voice called. "We can't waste this chance! We gotta go!"

"Coming, Mark!"

She had a reason to do what she did. She had hoped to use her views for monetary rewards to either pay for his bail or at least get him a suitable lawyer. That no longer seemed to be a problem.

The girl noticed the burnt footprints in the ground. They were the same ones she spotted earlier. They slowly began to fade away into normal footprints.

Dropping her helmet, Liz faithfully followed her step-brother.

* * *

Norman Osborn stood in his home office.

He had escaped the Vault by a hole in the wall that appeared to have been melted. He had managed to shift back into his human form and sneak out before anyone could notice him. And those who did—prisoner or correctional officer, he made sure to silence them for good.

His own land line had been ringing off the hook. No doubt the Vault officials were trying to reach one of its owners and inform him of what took place. He didn't care.

On his desk was a smart phone. It belonged to Harry. Picking it up, he came across a photo. He inspected it. The location was a coffee shop. He didn't know which one. Harry had mentioned the name many times, but he never listened. His mind currently focused on the subject of the image. He eyed the happy teens sitting together as Harry took the selfie. In addition to the auburn, the man spotted one teen with red hair, another with blond, and the last with brown. Their smiles were bright and carefree.

He recalled what the boy spat. _"I'm standing by my_ friends _."_

The ire within him grew. His son had denied his benevolent reaching out. His son had rejected his prosperous proposal. His son had rejected him. The one who had fed him, clothed him, and kept a roof over his head. The one who had raised him alone after the unexpected death of his wife.

"Harry, you spoiled brat…"

Enraged, Norman threw the phone. The device smashed against the wall. Shattering, the parts sprinkled to the floor. He stood in silence. His mind played and replayed the action down at the Vault. The teen with auburn hair turned his back on family. He chose to follow his fellow outlaws, his friends. He didn't even bother to look back.

Norman squeezed his fists. "How dare they steal my son away from me."

* * *

The woods were peaceful. Birds chirped. The sun's rays freely flowed through, only broken by tree branches. A butterfly landed on an overturned log before flying away. The tall grass was a lush green with brown spots scattered.

The quartet sat in a circle. They had managed a clean getaway. They had also managed to snatch a quick meal from a Chinese restaurant. After that intense battle, they scarfed down their food of chicken, pork, and rice all soaked in sauces. Savage Spider-man may have his extra limbs, but he still devoured his food by holding his plate to his mouth.

"Look at you," Mary Jane laughed. "You got sweet and sour sauce all over your face."

Holding a napkin, she gently wiped his face. Savage Spider-man turned and made little noises, like he was embarrassed.

"It's good we got out safe," Harry remarked. "Sorry about everything Norman put you through."

The redhead and the blonde focused on the auburn. They spotted how apologetic and mournful he was. They also knew he was struggling with the fact that his father was a monster.

"Well, you know," Flash causally responded. "That time in prison was like a major detention. It gave me time to think."

He reflected on the mission. Rather than use his athletic ability and his symbiote for evil, he had committed to good. He had his chance to leave. Among the chaos, he could've abandoned his teammates. He had gained his courage because of his hero. He was still growing accustomed to the knowledge that the pipsqueak he picked on was his hero. He needed to make things right.

Looking towards the mutated adolescent, he held up his hand. "Want my fortune cookie?"

Savage Spider-man gazed at the treat. He chomped down and consumed it all. Paper included.

Flash yelped as he pulled away his hand. "So, um, we're cool now, right?"

"It wasn't just your dad, Harry," Mary Jane reasoned, returning to the main topic. "S.H.I.E.L.D. also turned us over. Peter, too. With what happened at the Vault, are we still criminals in their eyes?"

"Does this mean we're on the run?" Flash asked. "I'd like it if we could crash on a bed or even a sofa. Those cots at Midtown High started to get uncomfortable."

"I doubt I could make a room reservation at a resort and spa," Harry shrugged. "I don't have my phone. I figured it'd be best to leave it behind. I got the feeling it's being tracked some how."

"Not to mention money," Mary Jane brought up. "Mister Osborn probably took Harry off his accounts."

"Actually, we may be in luck. I made off with some stuff from the penthouse," Harry explained as he opened his bag. "We can pawn these. And I have a couple of credit cards. We can get the maximum amount for cash advances and then shred the cards. We gotta do it quick before Norman closes them. We should use different ATMs so no one can find us."

"Is that really what we've come down to?" Flash asked. "Hiding? I thought we weren't cowards anymore!"

"What more can we do?" Harry challenged. "Which of us can go back?"

A stillness came over them.

"I can't go back," Mary Jane answered first. "My dad will turn me in for any reward money."

"I can't go back," Flash added. "My dad will whoop my ass."

"I can't go back," Harry answered last. "Norman will kill me."

The trio looked at their mutated friend. They could tell the one with many arms refused to allow his aunt to see him as some sort of monster. One look at him might give her a shock that on the spot could literally stop her heart. They couldn't allow such guilt to consume him.

"Now what?"

That was still the question.

They looked over towards Savage Spider-man. He kept his gaze out towards the city. Something inside of him was tugging at him to go back. A part of him couldn't leave New York City in the hands of villains like The Goblin or Doc Ock and his Sinister Six. But he also couldn't endanger those who stuck by him.

The group would follow his lead. They now had two choices: Return to the city with the attempt to use their curse as gifts and risk getting arrested, or leave everyone and everything behind and be forever on the run.

At least they had each other.

 **End** **"Break Out"**

 **Author's notes:** Thanks for waiting on this one. If there's a pause between chapters or stories, I'm just struggling to write the action scenes. This one really kicked my butt.

Screwball/[real identity yet to be revealed], see _Amazing Spider-Man #559_ , 2008.

Elizabeth "Liz" Allan-Osborn, see _Amazing Fantasy #15_ , 1962. (Properly named in _Amazing Spider-Man_ _#4_ , 1962.)

Mark Raxton/Molten Man, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _#28_ , 1965.

Vault [Prison], see _Avengers Annual #15_ , 1986.


	7. Sharing a Plateful

**Author's notes:** Some submissions guidelines for original stories have word limits, like under 800. To give that a try, I'm challenging myself to write a fanfic under 800 words (which excludes this note and chapter summary). The tough part for me is that I'm used to page length over word count. Enjoy!

At SoManyQuestions: When it comes to stories revolving around the Osborns, I like ones that feature the friendship between Peter and Harry and/or the family bond between Norman and Harry. For me reading stories, there's too many to list specifically, including other categories—comics, live action films, other animated series, etc. I don't collab with any authors because I know that I would fall behind on any work schedule, and that wouldn't be fair to the other authors or readers. So it's easier if I stick to my own infrequent schedule. One episode I like is "The Symbiote Saga" because, while lots of fans despised it, I thought it was exciting. My dislikes are "Itsy Bisy Spider-man" and "Halloween Night at the Museum". The former has the team drawn as chibis but are called babies. I partially saw it and stopped. I couldn't get over how stupid everything was. I haven't seen the latter because it felt like a mandatory crossover with a Disney property solely because Disney now owns Marvel. Harry or Norman? I like them in different ways: Norman whenever he is The Green Goblin and makes an entertaining villain. Depending on how he's written, he'll either genuinely care about his son or toss him aside like trash. And with Harry, his character undergoes an interesting path between civilian, villain, and in this cartoon, a permanent hero. There's also his usual arc in turning away from his father's twisted legacy that is interesting. And, as mentioned before, I like friendship between Peter and Harry. My favorite part that I liked writing was the action and the bond between Peter and Harry in chapter 6 of _Escaping The Goblin's Shadow_. The action really challenged myself to write. Favorite moments in any story that I read are any strong friendship and/or family scenes. Second will be any well-written action pieces. Lastly, I'm trying to challenge myself to spot patterns in my fanfics and work something differently. One is the 800 word challenge in this fanfic, another one may be to write in present tense instead of past tense, or try a first person POV. I hope this answered everything you asked.

 **Summary:** Pre-canon. A talk with a friend, a shared snack, and a little joke can brighten a dark day.

 _ **Sharing a Plateful**_

"If it isn't Midtown High's own professional wallflower, Peter Parker."

"Nerd!"

"Geek!"

Rowdy students were gathering in the crowded hallways. The lunch bell had rung. Some classmates were already taunting and gossiping.

The target of mockery was shuffling down the cumbersome corridor. He hunched over, kept his head low, and held his backpack close. This was a time before Spider-man came along. He tried his best to ignore the teasing. That was all he could do.

A leg stuck out. Peter tripped. He dropped to the ground. His items spilled. His glasses fell off. Laughter echoed throughout the hallway. With the mobs of students, he didn't know who caused him to stumble. He only had a guess.

The hordes broke up when the teachers shepherded the students away and the merriment was completed. Peter bitterly gathered his supplies, including his thick, brown glasses.

Alone, Peter opened the door to the chemistry lab. He huffed as he sat by himself at a lab table. He set down his backpack and pulled out a chemistry book. The place was empty. No one would "accidentally" bump into him to mess him up or throw spit-wads in his direction. He was able to study in peace. But sometimes the quiet atmosphere brought loneliness.

"Oh, sorry, didn't know there was someone already here," a voice said when the door opened.

Peter spotted his classmate, Harry Osborn. It wasn't that long ago when a limo stopped by and offered the soaking wet Parker a ride on a rainy day. The two were still becoming acquainted with each other.

"It's fine," Peter insisted. "You can come in if you want."

He watched as Harry accepted the invitation. A part of him anticipated that his classmate would awkwardly wander around the room before leaving. That was what past interactions with other peers have taught him. He didn't expect for Harry to sit next to him.

"Are you here to make up an exam?" Peter asked.

'Nah," Harry answered. "Just looking for a place to sulk."

"Same," Peter nodded. As the school nerd, he could forgo his explanation.

The two sat in silence. Both were obviously having a rough day.

Peter did wonder what was bothering someone as outgoing as Harry. As the two talked little by little, and from what he had witnessed in that limo ride to school, he gained a better understanding. He thought of an idea. He pulled out his lunch. "Want one of my aunt May's cookies?"

Harry saw the offer. He also spotted the bright smile. "Sure."

He took a bite. His eyes widened. "These are delicious."

"Yeah, her cooking is the best," Peter replied. Thinking about something good allowed the pain from bullying to vanish.

As the two munched on the goodies, Peter gathered his courage to ask, "What's with the glum face?"

Harry turned to the table. He debated if he should share something so private. Yet something told him he could trust the brunet.

"It's my dad," he confessed. "We've been getting into a lot of arguments about school. Summer's not even here and already he's got all these plans for me to do. He wants to know what courses I'll be taking next semester. He's always hounding me about every quiz to make sure I'll get the right classes."

Frustrated, he sighed. "I just want to finish this semester. But it's hard when I'm not the class genius."

A little silence came between the two. Peter debated if he should speak up. He didn't want to appear smug. Everyone assumed that because of his big brain. He genuinely wanted to help. He already learned that the Osborn family only consisted of a father and son. Norman Osborn, the father, was an ambitious man, albeit difficult and critical. Peter had his guardians, his aunt and uncle, for encouragement. Perhaps his new friend could use a little support.

"Maybe you can compromise," Peter suggested. "Look to see what classes you'll need to take and see if they have any prerequisites. But also, take a class or two that seems like fun. It'll give you something to look forward to and motivate you to focus on this semester."

Harry reviewed his given response. "Yeah, that might work."

The two looked at the clock.

"Thanks for listening," Harry said. He stood up from his lab chair. "And thank your aunt for the cookies."

Peter wanted to maintain the momentum. He cheerfully invited, "You should come over and try her wheatcakes. They're _awesome_!"

"Maybe I will. I guess right now I can talk with the adviser."

"Yeah, go do that." Peter held up his textbook. "I'm gonna spend the rest of lunch here in the lab."

Harry smirked, "See ya around then, nerd."

As he watched his pal leave, Peter smiled at the joke.

 **End _Sharing a Plateful_**


	8. Great Reward

**Summary:** What if? storyline. What if Norman Osborn had died early on and his wife Emily had lived? Enter the Mother of The Goblin.

 **Warning: Story contains child abuse.**

 _ **Great Reward**_

The elevator bell dings. The double doors to the Oscorp penthouse opens. A pair of adolescent blue eyes scopes the living room, looking to see if anyone resided. The reserved space is quiet.

Harry sighs in relief as he plops his backpack on the pricey sofa. He had an unexpected eventful day. He was among a group of Midtown High students held captive. They had visited an arcade when trouble struck. A heist suddenly came into play. Guns were shot. Screams echoed as commands were shouted. While held prisoner, he had glanced at the robber's true face. After the scoundrel entered a tussle against Spider-man, the students were questioned by New York City police and then released. He is glad to be home.

But such tranquility quickly expires.

His body freezes when he hears the large doors open. In walks a tall, beautiful woman. Her brown pixie haircut smooths itself around her head. She wears a modish dark gray pants suit and matching high heels. Her profligate shoes clack with each systematize stride. Her perfectly manicured fingers holding green nail polish nicely stand against her fashionable outfit.

"Hi, Mom," Harry quietly greets.

Emily Osborn. Mother of Harry Osborn, wife to deceased Norman Osborn. She became head of Oscorp after the businessman's passing. She worked tirelessly to maintain control. Ever busy, she usually resides in one of her many meetings or somewhere down in the labs. Yet she knows that her son had come home. Her brown eyes land on him.

"Back from school?" she asks. A chill encases her voice. Her aspect is like a snake. She is quite charming in her own way. She is also quite poisonous.

"It was a half-day today," Harry explains. "The teachers are using the rest of the afternoon for their department meeting."

"And has that delayed any grading?"

"Uh, no."

"Have you received anything back?"

"Well, Mom, nothing really important came—"

"Let me see your test," she directs.

The teen sighs. He could never halt his mother from her goals. She readily shows her own authority. That is how she keeps her position. He pulls out the stapled packet from his backpack. Reluctantly, he surrenders it. He watches his mother analyze the red markings. Her brown eyes narrow when she comes to the end.

Raising her sharp eyes towards her boy, she softly criticizes, "Another F?"

Harry winces. Her disapproval cuts through him without stop.

"What happened?" Emily asks, her voice overflowing with an eerily calmed fury. "I thought your grades have been improving?"

Trying to defend himself, Harry answers, "They have been. This is only one test. It's just that he's been super busy lately and Peter hasn't had time to tutor me—"

"Peter!" she bitterly shouts. She catches herself in a boorish act. She calms herself and delicately asks, "Why are you relying on him? You're an Osborn. Osborns are capable of achieving on their own."

The teen is aware how his mother detests the intelligent brunet. She would always act courteous around him. Yet, even with the genius absent, Harry feels the need to defend him. "Mom, he's my best friend. He only wants to help me succeed."

"And I'm guessing your _best friend_ was nowhere to be found when you were attacked at that arcade."

Mothers will always find a way to gather information about their children. Harry assumes she was contacted by the police. She must have also caught word from the news. No doubt anchorman J. Jonah Jameson is screeching about the wall-crawler's unwanted presence at the popular teen hangout spot. In its typical fashion, _The Daily Bugle_ briefing spins the situation against the web-spinner.

"It got pretty crazy at the arcade," Harry searches to assert himself. "That robber came outta nowhere and started screaming at everyone. We just got, um, separated. That's all."

He realizes he sounds unconvincing. His mother circles him. She watches his movements, listens to the pitches in his voice.

"Harry," she calls when she stops. "Never doubt the motivations of other people. I only want you to have better connections. Even at Midtown High. Peter may have a bright mind, but unless he pushes himself to do something great, he'll be stuck in his aunt's basement with no promising career."

"Come on, Mom. You're exaggerating. Peter just needs a little tutoring in the social world. I pushed him to join photography either for the yearbook or school newspaper. And he did it. He took photos when the school came to Oscorp last semester."

Emily gazes at her boy. Surprisingly, her eyes soften as she smiles.

"Look at you taking charge." She gently places her soft hand on his cheek. "You look so much like your father."

Harry stays in his position and stares bleakly towards the floor. _"I only look like him. And that's all. You always remind me of that."_

As Emily pulls her hand away, her smile leaves.

"I'll be in some board meetings for the rest of the day."

Her heels click as she walks towards the double doors. She is determined to not allow her husband's company fall out of the Osborn hands.

Left alone in the room, Harry sighs. He loves his mother. He only wishes she is less critical.

* * *

" _Mommy? Are you OK?" A little boy had heard his mother weeping. He wanted to see if she was fine._

 _The woman_ _was_ _sitting at the table in the kitchen. Her eyes were covered by her fingers, which held green nail polish. She removed her hand when she_ _heard_ _her son. A fire had relocated them. They had moved from their manor to a newly designed penthouse up in the Oscorp tower. They were both alive. The_ _re_ _was_ _still lost in their hearts._ _Only one culprit was responsible._

 _Lifting her hand, the woman struck her child's left cheek._

 _The little boy clinched his eyes in pain. The sting_ _was_ _powerful._

" _Your father never should have lost his life!" Emily declared. "That wreckage took him away from me. My Norman."_

 _She always reminded the man to relax when he was alive and was working long hours. She had been a caring woman. But the loss of her husband opened her to see the cruel world._

 _The child struggled to lift himself up. He had w_ _a_ _ndered into the lab_ _one night_ _. He_ _was_ _forbidden to go there. Accidents happened. On that fateful night, something had gone wrong. A fire_ _had_ _broke_ _n_ _out. His father had saved him from the flames. A part of him felt the same way._

" _I'm sorry."_

 _Sorrow enveloped him as he walked away._ _B_ _its of that_ _tragedy_ _enter_ _ed_ _his mind. All he could remember_ _that night_ _was_ _the vile green smoke._

* * *

The pale moonlight fills the dark room. Long shadows cast to the ground. While they are ordinary objects like plants, sofas, and bookshelves, their extensive forms makes the mostly unlit room seem ominous.

Harry walks from his living room to the kitchen in his penthouse. The TV is on. He grabs himself a snack. He has no need to go to bed despite the late hour. There is no school the next day. With his mother busy in her office, he is free to roam. He also finds it difficult to sleep.

All is quiet until he hears a voice. "Pst! Harry!"

The auburn boy looks around. He doesn't see anyone, so he looks up. He spots the familiar red and blue costume. "Spider-man?"

"Came by to see how you were doing." Like his heroic name entails, Spider-man sticks himself to the ceiling. "So, uh, how are you doing?"

Harry had enough of the unneeded action brought down by bad guys and heroes. He glares at the unwanted visitor.

Spider-man picks up the negative attitude. "OK, cool. No need to worry about breaking your mom's dont-talk-to-strangers rule. It's a good rule, in fact. For safety and stuff. But you know who I am. One of the good guys. You can trust me."

The auburn teen sighs as he relents.

"It isn't so easy to get through," Harry replies. "Things could've ended differently if you hadn't shown up. I know I should probably talk about this. I was thinking of calling a friend."

Spider-man perks up. "Oh, really? Someone like your best friend?"

"I dunno if you had a chance to see who you were saving. Some of us got separated."

"Erm, better to take shelter than doing something stupid like risking being a hero. You should always leave that to the professionals."

Harry glances away and turns quiet. He mentally debates if his mother is disappointed in him for not taking action back there. Emily despises cowards. Yet she didn't lecture him then. It was only on his grades, which is something they've been arguing about for some time.

Spider-man notes the young Osborn's behavior. He releases himself from the ceiling. His red boots dock themselves on the expensive carpet.

"Let me make this brief so I can be on my way. Wouldn't want you to think I'm eavesdropping." He grows serious. "I was hoping you can tell me a thing or two about the robber you saw. Did he have any noticeable physical bearings? Like a tattoo? Or a scar?"

He watches as Harry looks to the ground, thinking back to that situation. He keeps quiet so the teen can analyze in peace. But such tranquility runs out. His Spider-sense activates.

BANG!

Swiftly, the web-head leaps to the side. A bullet shatters a vase. The water soaks into the floor. The flower splatters.

The two boys turn and see Emily. Keeping her arms straight out, she holds out a handgun with both hands. Her fingers are fixed on the trigger.

"Mrs. Osborn?!" Spider-man gasps.

"Mom!" Harry cries.

"Get away from my son!" Emily orders.

Spider-man lands on his feet.

((In the animal kingdom, mothers protect their young. Here's a prime, scary example.))

"No need to be swinging that thing around, Emily," Spider-man urges, pointing towards the gun.

"Don't call me by my first name!" the woman snaps. "We are not on friendly terms!"

"But everyone loves their friendly neighborhood Spider-man! Except Jameson. But I'm wearing him down."

Emily grunts. She appears like she is prepared to shoot again. "Harry, move away from this masked menace."

"I just came to talk to your son!" Spider-man explains. "He saw who the robber was. I was hoping he could tell me a thing or two of what he saw. Trust me. No one is happier seeing him unscathed."

The woman scowls.

"Uh, except maybe his own mother," Spider-man sheepishly adds.

"I won't allow this trespassing," Emily yells. "Your kind is putting everyone in danger."

"My kind?! I'm the one trying to put the bad guys away!"

"You endanger the lives of citizens, you damage property—you're probably making your own mother worry sick with your reckless swinging around!"

"Hey, hey! I am careful! I always make sure to wash my hands after turning in some baddies." He needs to let the Osborns know that he means no harm. He gently advises, "If there's someone you should watch out for, it's Harry. I know you don't wanna lose him like you did with your husband."

The auburn teen uneasily watches the hero and his mother. His father, a prominent businessman, had his death printed in the newspapers. Such knowledge was made public.

Emily loathes how her husband is mentioned. She refuses to have him tarnished by the vexatious wall-crawler. Slowly, she walks in a circle. She now stands in front of her boy. Keeping her stance, she narrows her eyes. "Get out."

"Lemme guess: Don't ever talk to you or your son again?" Spider-man only receives the glare. Deciding it is best, the hero shoots his webs and leaves.

Harry watches the masked ruffian take his exit. He then hears his only parent lower her weapon. The two remaining family members are left alone. As questions rise, he breaks the silence. "Mom? What was that? I know Spider-man is an amateur hero. But he did save me and the other students. Do you really think he's that big of a menace?"

Emily doesn't answer. She thinks back to the conversation held against the web-head.

"Mom?"

She looks at her boy.

"Come with me to the lab," she instructs. "I have something to show you."

Harry doesn't know how to respond. His mother never wants him there. His curiosity grows. Before he takes a step, his phone vibrates. Pulling the device from his back pocket, he looks at the screen. The caller is Peter Parker, his best friend. He hadn't seen the brunet since the incident. He went home alone. He slides the response to ignore.

Quietly, he follows Emily.

* * *

The Oscorp lab prides itself with the latest technology. Yet the atmosphere feels like a horror movie. Eerie green lights are the only source. Computer screens mount the walls. Lab tables are piled with beakers and flasks. These house cryptic chemicals. Giant vertical tanks hold mysterious solutions. Numerous levers and buttons tantalize the impulsive side.

The young Osborn is aware of all the tedious board meetings that need to be held. But once a decision is made and a project is green lit, the labs are the place where the company made its name. He is aware of what he will one day inherit and control. Such pressures are tough to comprehend. The intoxicating power can quickly overturn the owner's head.

Harry returns to the reason he is down in the basement when he hears his mother shuffling between drawers. His mother hadn't said a word since they exited the penthouse. The stillness was difficult to bear as the elevator descended. But that is never unusual for the parent and her child.

"What did you want to show me?"

He watches as she turns around. Emily is holding something in her hand. He sees a bottle that glows with a mystifying green liquid. He stays still as his eyes remain glued. No other part of his body moves.

"What is that?" Harry finally asks.

"Your father's work," Emily answers. "He called it the Oz serum."

The teen grows confused. "I thought Oscorp worked with machines?"

"That is what your Grandpa Ambrose and those before him worked on," Emily explains. She then turns disgusted. "The name Osborn has always been a proud one. It was _poisoned_ by that worthless sot of a businessman Ambrose. Your father, rest his soul, studied hard at Empire State University. He had to work endless hours in his company to bring back what was rightfully his. So he could give his son a good life."

Harry hadn't heard much of his mother's separate life before his birth. Because Oscorp was going under construction, the teen believed she wasn't drawn to Norman because of his name. He is aware of what his deceased parent sacrificed for him.

Emily, looking to move forward, regains her poise. "Thanks to your father, Oscorp has expanded into other areas. Bio-engineering was something he was looking to tap into. It is only a year ago that I came across some of his notes that he worked on before his last days. The final results was the exhibit you and your classmates saw last semester."

"Dad was working on something like that? How come?"

"He was looking to further evolve mankind."

A chill races down Harry's spine. He always imagined his father as a hard worker. He wonders if the man he respects is really like the mad scientists he sees in movies. Questions rise within him. "What do you mean _evolve_? How did he do his work?"

"He had some insects and other lowly creatures to experiment on."

"What? Wasn't that dangerous? What if something bit him?!"

Emily doesn't share such disbelief. She sternly replies, "He's a scientist. Not an ape."

The auburn looks away. His mother insists no secrets are between them. He concludes that secrets are kept from him. Something about his bloodline doesn't feel right. He sometimes feels cursed.

"And I intend to do the same," Emily adds. "As far as I know, one little spider got away for a few hours. That was the same day your school came to Oscorp. A quaint coincidence."

Harry takes a moment to collect himself. He understands the older Osborn is aiming to keep the company on top. New grounds need to be broken in order to achieve that goal. He yields to his mother. "What do you want me to do?"

Emily keeps herself straight and answers, "I need to inject this into you."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?!"

"This is how you'll be able to tap into that extra power I know you have. Your abilities in strength and agility will be activated tenfold. With this, you'll be able to outshine that wretched _Spider-man_."

The auburn boy shakes his head. "Why would I need to outshine him? I'm not a superhero. My place is supposed to be head of Oscorp one day. You and Dad said so yourselves."

"It's not about competition," Emily tries to reason. Her first statement is a lie. But she truthfully tacts on, "If you did notice anything about that robber… If that robber saw you seeing him, this'll be best for your protection."

Harry turns silent. He couldn't believe what his mother is planning. He grasps her reasons. Yet he couldn't agree with them. To him, he has other options.

Emily walks closer to her son. She gently places one hand on his face. "I've already lost your father. I don't want to lose you as well."

Harry feels the warm hand. He weighs his options. Despite his mother's pleas, he remains doubtful. "It just seems like a lot of work… a lot of power and responsibility."

"You know what your father always said, 'With great power…'"

"…'Can come great reward'," Harry finishes. After giving some thought, he knows what it means to be an Osborn. He closes his eyes and nods.

He wants to make his dead father proud.

 **End** _ **Great Reward**_

 **Author's notes:** IDK where this idea came from. But I thought it'd be interesting to guess and write some opposites between Norman and Emily: While Norman ignored Harry and wanted Peter as his son, Emily wanted something greater for Harry and showed disdain for Peter. Coincidentally, like with the comics, at least she knows how to handle a gun. Hope you enjoyed it!

Emily Osborn-Lyman, for initial appearance in a photo, see _Spectacular Spider-Man #180_ , 1991 ("The Child Within: Part 3 of 6"). For full appearance, see _Spider-Man:_ _Revenge of_ _t_ _he Green Goblin #1_ , 2000.


	9. Videogame

**Summary:** Financial and personal responsibilities of a hero.

" **Videogame"**

"'bout time you made it," Harry welcomed as Peter passed through the double doors and entered the penthouse.

The two long-time buddies clasped hands. They had agreed to meet up for an afternoon delight of videogames. Easy-going hangouts were one way for the hero and his Academy student to bond outside fighting villains. As usual, it was a friendly competition. The loser would pay for pizza.

"Spidey has his responsibilities for the city," Peter replied. "I still have mine for my friends. You ready to get your butt whipped?"

"Depends if your usage of the controller is as good as your webbing in real life. It usually isn't. Especially not for the latest version of this Avengers game that Dad got for me while he's outta town." Harry showed his friend the franchise they will be playing. "You must always feel so good seeing yourself on the cover."

"Yep. Seeing Spidey all the way in the back behind Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, and even The Hulk always puts me in a good mood. Never mind the monetary compensation the other guys get that I don't."

Harry turned surprised. "Wait, the game is using your original design and likeness? And you don't get a cent?"

"Nope."

"Bummer."

Peter casually shrugged. "It is what it is. I've never been Spidey for the cash reward. At least, not post my wrestling career."

Placing in the disk, Harry offered, "Do you need a lawyer? I think Dad's got a team that can help you out. He's very protective of his own image. That's including Iron Patriot and Patrioteer."

"Judging by these new expy characters, I can see why. But, nah. It might involve me doing the whole revealing-my-identity-to-the-public thing. Don't wanna do that. Not to mention all the damage done to the city over the course of Spidey's career. Good thing for S.H.I.E.L.D. and Damage Control."

"Oh, right. I gotcha."

The two sat down on the lavish sofa. It was good to get together without the constant worry of some scoundrel striking from behind or hearing their threats against the innocent. They picked up their controllers and selected their fighting characters. Harry took his usual choice, Deadpool. Peter went with Spider-man.

As the loading screen came on, Harry asked, "So, all these characters aren't a marketing gimmick designed by some corporation? They're real people with actual lives and reasons to wear their masks?"

"Yep."

"Now I get why you're always pickin' Spider-man. And you've taken part in some team ups before?"

"A lot of 'em, yeah. Even got to be a member of The Avengers for a brief time."

"Still got their connections?"

Smugly, Peter replied, "I see them routinely with S.H.I.E.L.D."

Harry flashed a smirk. "Then do you think I could meet the real Deadpool?"

Keeping his grin, Peter answered, "Absolutely not!"

 **End "Videogame"**


	10. Fish in the Tank

**Summary:** Norman contemplates how much his son had changed while he was away as The Goblin.

 _ **Fish in the Tank**_

"It's exciting we can finally see a movie on its premiere weekend," Harry remarked while he and Peter stood up from the dinning room table.

In front of them were plates that once held a delicious meal. The flatware, along with any cooking gear, was then moved to the sink for rinsing.

"Yeah, after these crash summer courses, can't wait." Peter smiled. The enthusiastic mood shifted with him yawning.

The two friends moved to the living room of the penthouse. The large window panes allowed the sunlight to freely enter. The weather outside was pleasant. Rarely did the city have such luxury of peace. Most of that harmony can be credited to the superheroes who worked tirelessly.

((Been pulling a lotta late night shifts as Spidey. 'bout time I got a little break. Gotta make sure I make time as Peter to hang out with his best bud.))

Harry noted his guest's wellbeing. At one time he became suspicious and annoyed about such antics. Instead, he smirked, "Seems like you can."

"Just been up late redoing homework. Gotta make up destroyed assignments whenever I, uh, trip in the mud. I'll be alright." Peter thought back to his job as Spider-man where his backpack and supplies fell from a tree and landed in a mud pile as he struggled to change outfits.

"Why don't you freshen up at the bathroom here?" Harry suggested. "We still have time before the previews start. I'll wait."

"Good idea. At least the scratchy toilet paper is well stocked and the floor isn't sticky with soda like it is at the theaters." Peter stretched his arms as he headed for the restroom.

As soon as his best bud made his exit, Harry heard the double doors opened. He spotted Norman walking in. "Hi, Dad."

"I just came up to grab some things," the businessman quickly explained. "I'm afraid I'll be attending meetings well into the evening. Some of these projects aren't getting off the ground as I planned."

"Don't sweat it. Me and Peter are heading for the movies. I'll probably be out all afternoon, too."

Norman looked at his boy. Harry used to gripe about him working those long hours. However, the teen's feedback came off nonchalant.

"I did want us to do something," Norman tried to assure. He no longer wished to sound like he was brushing him off. "But I'm making up this work. If only I can remember what some of these passwords were to their separate accounts. My mind has been drawing blanks ever since I came out of the hospital."

Harry stepped closer and placed his hands on the man's forearms. "Dad, you don't need to put this much pressure on yourself. I know you wanna get things done, so you should focus on the positive. At least no bad guys have come by lately. You gotta make sure to take is easy on yourself, too."

Norman smiled. He felt the hardships of work and the aftermath of his recuperation struggles fading away. He was glad to have a caring son by his side. He needed to show he would do the same.

"If you are stepping out, make sure you find time to eat—" He stopped when his nose picked up a scent. "What is that smell? It's nice."

"I was just doing a little cooking. I'd thought me and Peter could have a bite before we leave."

"When did you learn to do that?"

Harry grew quiet. He wasn't embarrassed with his learned trade. He was only concerned with the timing. Uneasily, he rubbed the back of his head. "Uh… while you were away."

A strange silence fell between father and son. It was difficult to talk about that terrible green beast. It seemed both Osborns rather pretend that such mishaps didn't exist.

Norman was thrown off by the skill. But whenever the topic came to his truancy, he couldn't find a proper response. He wondered how many times the smoke alarm had sounded off. It seemed his son had managed to steer clear of any food poisoning.

"I'm letting the dishes soak," Harry quickly clarified, searching to change the uneasy subject. "I was planning to clean them up when I got back."

"Well, that should be fine," the father permitted. "I now need to find that filing folder…"

"Folder? I put that on the edge of the dinning table," Harry informed. He quickly went to retrieve it. "I knew it was yours. I moved it while I was cooking so it wouldn't get stained or lost with the other papers that need to be shredded."

"Oh, thank you," Norman said as he accepted the papers.

Harry smiled.

"I know you plan to be out," Norman began as he walked. "But I still want you back before dark—"

He stopped when something glistened. Searching for the source, his eyes fell onto an aquarium. He watched colorful fish swim. They leisurely moved about between the plant life, stacked rocks, ornamental coral and driftwood, and a pirate ship. He briefly recalled a time when the spot was empty and he wanted to clear away the tank. Now such vibrant colors caught his senses. There was life.

"When did we get this?" he asked, forgetting about his work. He moved closer to take in the view.

"I called some people and had it cleaned out," Harry explained. "And then I ordered some new fish and supplies. Speaking of which…"

He knelt down in front of the cabinet. Behind the doors were bags of gravel, instructions for tank and pump maintenance, aquarium changer kit, nets, cleaning materials, and food. He opened the lid to a small canister. He sprinkled out the meal. The fish quickly swam around as they gathered the flakes in their little mouths.

As Norman kept his focus on the new pets, Harry introduced them. "There's Captain America, Thor, Iron Man, Hawkeye, The Hulk, and Black Widow. Oh, and the goofy one in the corner is Spider-man."

The name of the last hero rang in the man's mind. "Spider-man?"

Harry didn't notice his father's daze. He merely heard a typical question. "Yeah, me and Peter had to hash it out if Spider-man was part of The Avengers. He was _insistent_ I named one that."

His voice remained steady as he spoke. Now that his father was home, he dropped his heat against the web-head. And with his parent home more often, he didn't feel neglected by his friends.

Norman kept his eyes on the tank. He didn't know how long those pets had resided in the penthouse. Yet his son had been doing well in managing them. The job of pet care didn't fall to any employee that kept the penthouse in shape.

"I'll be sure to keep feeding them before and after school when I go back," Harry promised.

The talk of returning to studies broke Norman out of his trance. He wanted to show he would be supportive of his boy. "Yes, with your classes starting soon, you'll need to be up to date on your medical reports. When was the last time you saw a doctor or the dentist? I'll hafta check my records."

"I already got my eyes checked," the teen informed.

Norman turned surprised. "When?"

"Um… Well…"

The man pieced together the time frame. He quickly tried another suggestion. "What about your teeth?"

"Taken care of. No cavities. Just went in for a cleaning."

Norman became staggered. A part of him hoped he could still be the parent and spend time with his only child, especially after being gone for so long. Refusing to surrender, he kept on trying. "How about I make you an appointment for your doctors?"

"I already did. I had to make another one because I'm past due for a shot. They won't give it to me unless I'm with a parent. Their rules."

"Well, alright. I'll keep that date in mind. Your health is important."

Harry smiled. That last line sounded more concerned rather than condescending as it once was.

Norman placed the errand into his electronic calendar. He took a moment to examine his son and noted the goldenrod sweater compared to his dark gray one. The new outfit seemed to fit him better. "Did you buy new clothing?"

The teen looked down at his fashion choice. "Uh, yeah."

Styles changed. Norman was perturbed because his driver hadn't reportedly lately for taking Harry anywhere for shopping. Everything had just became a blank to him. "What did you do with your old stuff?"

"Well, me and Peter are about the same size. I let him look through everything before I got anything new. He suggested that I take the rest of the clothing to F.E.A.S.T."

"The charity owned by Martin Li? The philanthropist?"

Food, Emergency Aid, Shelter, and Training. That was the volunteer soup kitchen owned by Martin Li. Unknown to the public, that place was only a front for the proprietor's devious plot. The true intention was a base of operation for Li's criminal side. He was also Mister Negative, head of his gang, the Inner Demons. A kind and gentle man on the outside and a personality split monster on the inside. His powers corrupted Asian immigrants into becoming his drug dealers. He became one of Spider-man's newer foes.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I never met him, though. Missus Parker has. She volunteers there regularly when she isn't on one of her exotic trips. I actually went there a few times."

"To drop off more belongings?"

"And to volunteer. But don't worry. I always made sure to pick up a receipt so that you could get your charitable tax deduction."

Norman was unaware of how involved his son had become. "Well, uh, that's good to hear. Volunteering is important. I'm sure you can put that on your application for Empire State University. You should also find time to shake hands with Mister Li."

Harry no longer viewed the prepping for higher education as a means of controlling. He could tell his father genuinely wanted him to continue his studies. He was glad to have his father with him.

A door opened.

"Guess all I needed was to splash my face with water," Peter laughed. He then took notice of the other residence. "Oh, hey, Mister Osborn."

"Hello, Peter," Norman greeted back. He was happy that the intelligent brunet stayed connected with his son despite his own crimes. "I trust that your studies had gone well?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely," the guest nodded. "They still are. Summer school is a better choice for me than going away for camp. It's a little dull but keeps me busy."

Harry teased, "So long as he keeps his homework out of mud piles."

"Better that than my clothing," Peter snapped back. "It's no fun walking with muddy pants or no shoes at all."

The two Osborns turned bewildered by that statement.

Peter realized what he blurted out. Growing embarrassed, he explained, "I've lost some jackets and one or two pairs of shoes. I, uh, put them down for a second to get something to clean them and then they're gone. That's New York for you."

((Newsflash: If I don't hide my clothes well enough before going Spidey, they get stolen. Happens to me on occasion. Sometimes I borrow clothes from the donation bins at F.E.A.S.T. But don't worry. I put them back when I can for other to have.))

He tried to change the matter. "It's good to see you again, Mister Osborn. Me and Harry are going to the movies and maybe hitting the arcade."

"Yes, yes. You boys have a good time," Norman nodded. He placed his hand on his boy's shoulder. "Just be sure to stay alert."

Harry smiled. "I know, Dad. I've kept my eyes on exits."

Peter smiled as well. He was glad seeing the two family members speaking without delivering any backhand comments. He then turned to his best friend. "By the way, Harr, has Aunt May given you anymore advice for driving? She's had her fair share of riding all sorts of vehicles on her exotic trips. With your dad back, I'm sure he could give you a tip or two."

Norman was unaware that his boy had taken an interest in learning a new skill. Especially one that carried such attention and responsibility. "Driving?"

"I've been taking an online course to get my Junior's license," the auburn teen explained. "I went for a driver's ed. course to take over summer break. I figured I should be busy, too. It's great because I'm not stuck in a hot classroom. I thought it'd be a good idea to start driving myself around, especially once I go to college. Maybe I can get a motorcycle."

The man's eyes widened. "Motorcycle?!"

"Don't worry, Dad. I know that it takes a Class M license to drive one. I can only get that when I'm seventeen or right now with a driver's ed. course. But like I said, I'm only looking to get my Class D permit. I thought it'd be a new experience to go out of the city where there's less traffic."

Harry didn't notice how flabbergasted his parent remained. Instead, he turned to Peter and smirked. "You should get your license, too. There's no freedom like driving."

Peter laughed, "I dunno. I'm good with keeping my feet to the ground. Mud or not."

Thoughts raced and consumed Norman's mind. He remembered all the terror his son fell victim to because of supervillains. Though he was proud that Harry was studious, the possibility of his boy landing in a vehicle-related accident troubled him.

"Harry," he called. "Driving is more than learning the pedals and gearshift."

"I know, Dad," Harry replied. "There's a lot to consider like traffic laws, insurance, and registering any car. Here, lemme show you."

He pulled out his phone and opened up the Internet app.

Norman glanced at the webpage. He understood it was an official state certified driving course affiliated with Midtown High. But his mind was distracted when he spotted the new phone his son carried. He once used the latest gadgets like phones and other expensive electronics as gifts whenever he made up for canceling any plans he had with Harry. Which was more often than he would like to admit. He could see that the teen had made a major purchase while he was away.

As Harry placed away his device, he assured, "I'll show you more of the driver's ed. website and what I've been learning when I get back and you're done with your meetings."

The father blinked as he returned to reality. "Oh, my meetings. Yes. I must be getting back to work."

"And don't worry. Me and Pete aren't sneaking in to an R rated movie. We're just gonna kick back and watch a lot of explosions and car chases."

Now it was Peter's turn to grow confused. "Wait, I thought we were seeing a comedy."

"Not after all the dull work you've been placing in for summer school," Harry answered. "That's why we're seeing an action-packed movie. To spice up your life."

Peter reviewed all his missions that Spidey completed earlier in the week. Some involved his Spider-Cycle. "How considerate."

"Just don't nitpick everything like you always do and you'll actually enjoy it. Besides, it's not like it's a seminar on toe fungus. Even though that's right up your alley."

"Well _sorry_ if that's not as exciting as your hobby in watching paint dry."

The two buddies smirked in between insults. They then laughed as they exited the penthouse. Harry nonchalantly waved goodbye.

Norman quietly watched as the two left. Alone in silence, he stayed in place. He was still stunned with all that his son had accomplished during his absence. Harry had matured. He recalled how they used to fall into arguments. And that was only pertaining towards the boy and his studies.

He sometimes couldn't believe how much his son had grown. Cliché, but sometimes it seemed like only yesterday that he was holding an infant. Now Harry was preparing himself to finish up Midtown High and was heading to E.S.U. He figured the aging teen would want a space closer to campus, away from the penthouse, away from him.

Norman cast his eyes towards the tank. The fish continued to swim at their own easy-going pace. Their heroic names tantalized him like an itch. Yet he was more focused on the growing young adult. He missed many days while he was out as The Goblin. And even before then. Harry couldn't pause his life just because his only parent was out. Norman understood that. Yet he couldn't help but turn glum.

"Did all Harry need to get himself together was to have his father out of his life?"

 **End _Fish in the Tank_**

 **Author's Notes:** Yes.

Mister Negative/Martin Li, see _Free Comic Book Day Vol. 2007 #Spider-Man_ , 2007.

Food, Emergency Aid, Shelter, and Training [F.E.A.S.T.], see _Amazing Spider-Man #548_ , 2008.

Empire State University, see _Amazing Spider-Man #_ _1_ , 1963.


	11. Images of Yesteryear

**Summary:** An old photo brings out memories and unexpected connections.

 _ **Images of Yesteryear**_

"How's that yard sale coming along?" Harry asked as he welcomed his guest into the Osborn penthouse. He earlier had received a call from his best friend, who was looking to drop by.

"Great," Peter replied. "We managed to get rid of that creepy lawn gnome. I swear that thing followed me around when I was a kid. The buyer insisted on purchasing it. Some people hunt the strangest things."

He spotted his best friend smirking. He rose a finger. "Don't say a word about my comic book collection! I've been expanding what Uncle Ben shared with me."

"Has it been tough deciding what to sell?"

"A little. But it's the memories we have that'll live on. Not the things themselves."

Harry nodded.

"Anyway," Peter continued, becoming chipper once more. "I was cleaning out the attic for Aunt May's yard sale when I found this picture. It's of my mom and dad."

"Really?" Harry replied, intrigued. Hearing that his best bud was an orphan shocked him. As their bond grew, they learned more about each other, with and without masks.

The brunet gazed at the image. The young woman had vibrant, lush black hair that glowed with a slight tint of brown. The man's haircut resembled his son's. He appeared like an adult version of Peter. They even shared the same charismatic smile.

((I never really had the chance to know my parents, Mary and Richard Parker. As Spidey, I found out that they were working as part of the Central Intelligence Agency. Yep, the CIA. How cool is that? They musta kicked some serious butt on their missions.))

Peter handed over the creased photo. "Judging by their outfits and hairdos, I'd say it was when they were in college. You know, they both attended Empire State University. That's probably an old classmate or friend beside them."

"Ever find out what they were studying?" Harry asked as he accepted the photo.

Peter shrugged. "Can't say. I only know what jobs they got. I remember Aunt May telling me how secretive my dad was. But I guess any lesson to be learned from them is that they made time to enjoy themselves."

He fought to hold on to his bright attitude as the outlook slowly faded. It was their career and heroic work that ended their lives, leaving their only son to be raised by his aunt and uncle. He never heard from anyone outside the family about them. He would've liked to have received tidings from their closest companions to gain a new perspective on them.

Harry studied the picture. Immediately, he spotted the similarities. His gaze soon fell onto the other woman in the photo. His eyes widened. "Pete… I think I know who else is in the picture. That's my mom."

"Wait, what?! Seriously?!" Peter took another gaze.

There was another woman present. She wasn't in the background. She was presented alongside the other two young adults. Her brown hair shined in the sunlight and her brown eyes crinkled from her smile. Peter knew her story, Emily Osborn; how she passed away a year after Harry was born.

"You sure that's her?" the brunet asked.

"Definitely," the other teen nodded. He then insisted, "I'll show you. I know where there are more photos of her."

He led the way to one of Norman's study rooms. Peter followed.

Inside was a neatly put together home office. A wooden desk with a leather office chair was in the center. On top of that were a fountain pen set, a leather desk mat, and a desk lamp. Closed black blinds covered the narrow window. A potted plant was in a corner. There was even a large framed artwork hung on the wall. Aligned in the back was an oak bookshelf. The young Osborn pulled out a family album. He had plenty of time to explore while his father was away. Even before The Goblin arrived.

Peter took in the prestigious green cover complimented with a gold outline. Hardly a scratch was on the smooth surface. The book was even cleared of dust, unlike what he found in his own attic. "I'm surprised your dad kept this in such good condition."

"Well, this was put together by my mom," Harry explained as he set the book on the sturdy desk. "To him, it's one of her creations."

Peter stepped up to the desk and placed the picture down.

Opening the pages unleashed a history. They spotted the passed away Mrs. Osborn. One photo had her in her wedding dress. They saw her holding her son. She appeared different because her hair was shoulder length. The lighting made her appear like she had a lighter hair color. As they carried on, there were images of a younger Norman. His hair was a fuller auburn. Less winkles covered his face. But he carried a genuine smile.

"It's kinda strange to see your dad so… relaxed," Peter remarked.

Harry continued turning the pages. "Yeah, I felt the same way looking at these. He's gotten better, though."

Peter was aware of the hard work the family was placing in their rapport. "For sure."

He looked at the woman. She did carry characteristics of the one in his picture. But they had no way of confirming it outside a hunch. Before he could say anymore, his Spider-sense went off.

"What are you two boys doing?" a masculine voice asked.

The two turned around. They spotted a tall man wearing a business suit. He stood in the doorway.

"Dad!" Harry gasped.

"Mister Osborn!" Peter learned that his Spider-sense went off for little things, like anyone looking to sneak up on him even without a malicious intent.

The businessman entered his study. He didn't sound angry. He was merely surprised to find his son and his friend there. But he was waiting for an answer.

"Peter came over and showed me a picture," Harry replied. "I wanted to show him Mom."

Their guest added, "Harry had this idea that, well…"

Norman sensed something strange. "What?"

The two boys looked at each other. They believed if there was one person who would hold the answer it would be the husband.

Peter handed over his picture.

"What's this?" Norman inspected the image. He spotted the young woman and man. His looking soon wandered towards the other person. His eyes widened. "Emily?!"

"That really is Harry's mom?" Peter asked.

"I knew it was her!" Harry happily declared.

The older Osborn lifted his confused gaze. "Where did you get this?"

"Those are my parents," Peter answered. "I found this in my aunt's attic."

Stunned, Norman observed the photo once more. He never gave much thought to Peter's situation outside what the brunet and his son had mentioned. He began to connect the likeness. His eyes quickly wandered back to the other woman.

"Since it is Missus Osborn," Peter began. "Is there anything you can tell us? Like, why she was with my parents? By the looks of it, you all went to Empire State University."

Norman pondered the request. He sighed. "If you had shown me this picture without saying anything, I wouldn't have known who else was there other than Harry's mother. I wasn't sociable in my younger years. I never talked to any classmates. And those who tried to talk to me… I would always push them away."

Neither boy made any remarks towards the past detached attitude.

"I had to study," Norman continued. "There was no time for me to party while I was at Empire State University. Not as an undergraduate or graduate student. I placed my energy in my studies for chemistry, electrical engineering, and business administration. I spent my weeknights and weekends in the labs. I had to do what I could to rebuild Oscorp. Even make deals with sketchy partners like my old E.S.U. professor Mendel Stromm…"

The two boys exchanged concerned looks. They wondered if it was a good idea to pry. They already understood how much the old Osborn hated bringing up his past.

"But Emily…" Norman softened his rigid posture. "What a remarkable woman. She was faithful. Even when I had my doubts, she stayed by my side. She encouraged me. She was there for me."

Harry was glad seeing his father growing elated and carefree. But he knew how and why their relationship was cut short. At least in his eyes because his parents had known each other since their childhood. Dolefully, he lowered his gaze towards the floor.

Though father and son, the two Osborns were vastly different from one another. Norman was aloof unless he was playing host. Harry was gregarious until he was alone. Norman kept away from his own father, Ambrose Osborn. Harry tried to keep their ties strong. Norman had a gifted intelligence and worked hard. Harry struggled with his studies and procrastinated.

Perhaps the businessman held more in common with the brainy brunet.

When the atmosphere became quiet, Norman looked up. He took note of his despondent son. Walking over, he place a hand on his shoulder. He calmly added, "She did give me one last gift."

The father and son's eyes met. They smiled.

Peter happily watched. He was already familiar with the Osborn story. But the photo possible brought out a new chapter for him. Meekly, he asked, "Think there's a chance you knew my parents, Mister Osborn?"

"I may have met them when we were all students at E.S.U.," Norman admitted. "I'm afraid I wasn't sociable then. I'm sorry I can't tell you anymore."

Yielding to another dead end, Peter placed on a small smile. "Don't sweat it, then."

Harry turned to his best friend. He wanted to make sure his bud didn't surrender his hope. "This was just one incident where a door opened and closed. That doesn't mean all doors are locked."

Peter nodded. "Thanks, Harr."

Norman looked at the picture once more. His college days were glum. But here was a reminder of someone who helped improve that time. Over the years he learned to appreciate those who were in his life rather than keep the artifacts they left behind as the only reminders. He couldn't bear to part with this photo. Yet it wasn't his to keep. "Peter, would you mind if I made a copy of this?"

The boy caught how much the image meant to the older Osborn. "Uh, no. Go right ahead."

"Thank you. I'll be sure to be careful with it."

Norman quickly left the room.

Alone, neither teen said anything. There was so much to process. Old parents who passed away once knew each other. The wall clock minded its own business as it silently ticked away the seconds.

Harry finally spoke. "So your folks knew my mom."

"What a small, bizarre world we live in," Peter replied, brushing his hand through his hair.

"Seems to be getting smaller and more bizarre every day."

"No kidding. Fighting villains looking to take over the city and build inter-dimensional portals has gotten more normal… Makes me wonder what went down. When did they met? How did they get to know each other better? It musta meant _something_ since that photo was with my parents' stuff. "

"Guess we'll never know."

The green album was shut and put back on the shelf.

The two friends left the room, pondering.

* * *

 _The day offered clear weather. The city park was enjoyed by people playing and passing through. A brunette with a pixie haircut casually pushed a stroller. Her infant gazed around with his innocent blue eyes, taking in the entire world. He already had a full head of hair. His was auburn, much like his father's._

 _She was out and about alone as her husband toiled in his office. Her doctors had recommended that she exercise regularly. However, they also advised her to take it easy on herself._

 _As the cement path carried on, the woman pulled herself and the stroller to the side. A large tree proudly stood in place and offered great shade. Birds chirped as flowers swayed from the gentle wind. She knelt down closer to her son._

" _See, Harry?" Her voice was soft and caring. "Look at all the wonders this city has to offer. You're going to inherit Oscorp one day. Your father is working hard to make sure of it. But don't forget to enjoy the time to smell the roses. That is something your father tends to forget to do."_

 _The baby in the stroller was unable to comprehend such wisdom. He was far more content sucking and drooling on his stuffed lion with an orange felt mane._

 _The woman stood up. The married couple had a minor spat. She chose to walk out. Taking her child, she opted for the park. She was prepared to continue when someone called her._

" _Emily!" a feminine voice excitedly cried out. "Emily Lyman! Is that you?!"_

 _She turned around. She spotted a man and a woman together. The raven-haired woman had her bob cut at an angle. The man had his brown hair combed back with only a sliver of a bang in front._

" _It is me," she replied, elated in seeing old friends. She then smiled. "But it's Emily_ Osborn _, now."_

" _Osborn?" the man repeated, sounding disgusted. "Like that pretentious, cantankerous student we met back at E.S.U.?"_

" _He's just a passionate man." Emily playfully waved her hand, dismissing the comment. "Tell me, what's new with you? Mary? Richard?"_

 _The two glanced at each other. Small, sheepish smiles came across their lips._

" _I had my last name changed from Fitzpatrick," the other woman softly confessed. "It's_ Parker _now."_

" _So you two finally tied the knot!" Emily exclaimed._

" _It's how we gave birth to this bundle of joy," the man remarked. He brought their stroller into a better view. "His name is Peter. Peter Benjamin Parker."_

 _He was proud of naming his son's middle name after his older brother._

 _Emily gasped in delight. She spotted the unkempt brown hair and his comfort in sucking his thumb. She then brought her own stroller closer. "Here's mine and Norman's. This is Harry—Harold Theopolis Osborn."_

 _Two sets of young blue eyes made contact. They seemed fascinated gazing at someone as small as them. One, however, appeared shyer than the other._

 _The trio spent the afternoon together for catching up. Neither one knew it would be their last time together._

* * *

 _Back at the Osborn home out in the suburbs, a time before the Oscorp penthouse existed, Emily was jubilant from her impromptu get-together. She tenderly placed down her baby boy in his crib. After his big day in the park, little Harry was snoozing away. She herself felt a little weary. She planned to return to the master bedroom for some rest._

 _When she quietly left the nursery, she passed the living room. The lights were out save for something that flickered. That caught her attention. Peering inside, she found her husband. He stood by a table adorned with a white table cloth and a vase in the center holding a flower._

" _Norman?" she questioned._

" _I know you went out because you were mad at me," the man confessed. "You know I never mean to put you or Harry aside."_

 _Embittered, he clenched a fist. "It's just… I must work. I must bring back honor to the Osborn name. I'm in this mess because of Ambrose."_

 _He had long ago dropped the title from his parent. He discarded any connection to either of those who raised him. Sometimes he could still hear the dead man's criticism, still see his contempt. His own past and inheritance haunted him. He couldn't bear that fault to fall on the only two people he loved._

 _Emily saw her husband in pain. "Norman, you are an intelligent man. You are a good man. You aren't your father."_

 _He grew tranquil as the assurance reached his ears. Gazing at his wife, he spotted just how tired she had become._

" _How are you feeling?" he asked with true concern. "I know you went out. The doctors had told you to watch your exercise."_

 _Emily placed on a smile. "You don't need to fuss over me. That's my job for you and our son."_

 **End _Images_ _of Yesteryear_**

 **Author's notes:** Pardon my sloppy idea. Peter's parents really were CIA operatives, though. BTW, Emily is revealed to be alive and is seen as of "The Red Goblin" saga ( _Amazing_ _#_ _974-_ _800_ , 2018). Only time will tell what Marvel has planned for the Osborn family.

At Writing Tips: Thanks for the feedback. I plan to keep on practicing.

Emily Osborn-Lyman, for initial appearance in a photo, see _Spectacular Spider-Man #180_ , 1991 ("The Child Within: Part 3 of 6"). For full appearance, see _Spider-Man:_ _Revenge of_ _t_ _he Green Goblin #1_ , 2000.

Richard Parker and Mary Parker-Fitzpatrick, see _Amazing Spider-Man Annual #5_ , 1968.

Empire State University, see _Amazing Spider-Man #_ _1_ , 1963.

Mendel Stromm, see _Amazing Spider-Man #_ _37_ , 1966.

Amberson "Ambrose" Osborn, see _The Spectacular Spider-Man Annual #14_ , 1994.


	12. A Father's Responsibility

**Author's notes:** I have zero clue how to write Romance, the good or bad stuff that comes with it. But it's an important aspect for many characters and their stories, and I try to respect that. So please don't see this fic as choosing favorites or partaking in character bashing. Enjoy!

 **Summary:** A time for a father to comfort his son in his hour of need.

 _ **A** **Father's Responsibility**_

"Why exactly am I doing this?" Spider-man asked. He was standing around a table in the Oscorp penthouse.

The spread at that extensive table was incredible. A long, white tablecloth covered it. Centerpieces involved precisely cut flowers resting in crystal clear vases. Candles in their own cases were lit. In front of each guest was a cloth napkin, a glass water goblet, and a set of pristine silverware.

"I know how to cut steak," the wall-crawler bemoaned. "Even the toughest bit of meat isn't a match for my strength. Except maybe the mystery meat served at Midtown High's cafeteria."

He wasn't alone in this situation. To his right was Spider-woman. She, however, presented a different outlook. "C'mon, Tiger, there's nothing wrong with reviewing a little dinner etiquette."

Agent Venom was across from the two. Curiously, he looked at the many forks and knives. He picked up a tiny spoon that seemed unable to even hold cereal. "I never realized how many pieces were needed for a fancy hamburger."

"Just wait until we get to the gazelle in jelly," the web-spinner quipped. "That'll _really_ send your taste buds flying."

"Too bad the kitchen is fresh out," Harry retorted. "You'll hafta settle for salmon over quinoa and crème brûlée."

He was standing by the hero's left. He wasn't wearing his Patrioteer armor but a nice button down shirt and tie and slacks. Next to him was an empty chair. That seat was intended for someone who had yet to arrive.

"Sounds delicious," the girl remarked. "I love the lemon ones best."

"Never had it," Agent Venom admitted. "Is it anything like cheesecake?"

"You'll get a shot at trying it," Harry assured. "After the soup, salad, and entrée. This is, after all, a full four course meal we're gonna get through. We just need one more guest."

The double doors opened. Entering was a tall man wearing a business suit. "Hello, everyone."

"Dad!" Harry excitedly called. He left his spot and rushed over to his parent.

The industrialist warmly placed his hand on his welcoming son's shoulder. He then looked at his guests. "I'm glad everyone could make it."

"Another rough day at the office, Mister Osborn?" Spider-woman asked.

"A few mishaps have arrived," he answered. "I placed my foot down. I'm giving them two days to fix the problem."

In the past he would've commandeered the entire operation. He decided, however, not to allow his workaholic and perfectionist attitude control him. He had an activity to perform with his son.

"Listen, Norman," the web-head called. He sought any exit he could take. "About this little exercise…. What's up with it?"

"This was Harry's idea," the man explained. "It's one I agreed with. Spider-man is a hero to the city. He'll be invited to the most coveted New York events. A workshop is what you need for survival."

The masked ruffian disliked how everything was worded. He glared at his so-called buddy.

((OK, confession time. Maybe a part of me is intimidated. I've always been more comfortable eating Aunt May's food or grabbing a slice of thin crust pizza in between missions. To actually sit down and be with people of high status? That's alerting my introverted nature. Facing baddies like Kraven or even Ock is preferable to this.))

He then shrugged. "I don't suppose I could just show up at these frilly events and take home a doggie bag?"

Norman discerned the lack of enthusiasm. He assumed such cynicism came from dread. He answered, "It won't take up too much of your time. Consider this exercise a more proper way of thanking you for what you have done for the Osborn family."

Harry was unafraid of his leader's glare. Serving the role as best friend, he already understood the web-slinger's grief. He genuinely added, "You've tutored me in science class and S.H.I.E.L.D. training. Now the ball's in my court. Lemme help you out here."

The web-head doubted. He was viewed as a menace, unlike Captain America or Iron Man. He looked at his other two teammates. They were invited for support. They seemed avid.

"Alright, alright," he mumbled. "Since everyone is eagerly twisting my arm over this… At least there's free food."

All three teens grew excited for the agreement.

"To begin," Norman began. "As soon as you sit, you place the napkin on your lap. Keep it on you until you either are finished eating or are excusing yourself from the table. Place it on the chair if you are excusing yourself. Place it on the table when you are completely done."

The adolescents followed. Their first course was hot soup. Steam rose from the served bowls. The smell was warm and inviting.

The activity required eating. Spider-man lifted his mask, exposing just enough to reveal his nose. His hosts already understood the importance of keeping his real identity a secret. No doubt he would do the same should the imaginary invitation arrive.

Agent Venom and Spider-woman had control of their symbiotes. They pulled the beings away to free their own individual mouths. Their eyes remained covered.

Norman carried on, giving particular instructions that differed from sitting at a fast food joint. There were rules regarding everything in front of them: Using the correct utensil, sitting perfectly in place, passing around essentials, even buttering a dinner role.

As the second course of fresh salad was coming to a closed, the teen heroes were becoming more comfortable with the rigid setting. The older Osborn gave his tips on holding a conversation. He even confessed who bored him at such starlight meetings and advised for how to slip away.

Such an anecdote amused Spider-man.

((Hard to believe even adults mimic a high school lunch. Knowing what tables to sit at and who are the gossipers…. I'm just grateful to be sitting with my teammates. They are my friends. I know I can always count on them for support.))

Anytime the masked ruffian needed a reference, he checked his best friend. So did their teammates. Norman proudly used his son as an example. They kept their backs straight. They watched themselves not to stuff their face. There was no talking with their mouths full.

"Keep in mind," Harry added. "These rules only apply for an American setting. Every country has its own culture for dinning etiquette."

"That is correct," Norman nodded. "For now, we'll focus on what we do here in America."

Spider-man found himself enjoying the lesson. He did have his own question. "You've been around the block before for these, Norman. What else goes on at these functions? Do they do anything fun?"

"Harry and I have both attended these," the businessman replied. "There's usually a concert pianist playing. A little jazzy music keeps the slightly inebriated audience together. Others have included award winning essays or poems read aloud."

The auburn dully added, "Sometimes the most interested thing is the ice sculpture and watching it drip."

"Is that my competition as entertainer?" the web-spinner asked, smirking.

"Only if you can beat a swan," the other teen shot back.

"Those are examples from past events," Norman stepped in. He aimed to keep the setting professional. "We'll see how things go with the newly elected Mayor Bill Hollister. Of course, I would've preferred if his opponent Randall Crowne won. But I was… out and didn't vote."

He had referred to the time when he was a green beast. He straightened his posture. "I have nothing to complain about for that result. Harry and I will see what happens at Mayor Hollister's inauguration."

At the mentioning of the political position, Spider-man nearly spat his water. He and Spider-woman exchanged worried expressions. They then looked at the younger Osborn.

The auburn teen's attitude changed. He held his gaze down. Abruptly, he stood up from the table. The feet of the chair groaned as it slid against the floor. Such an uncouth act caught everyone's attention. He tossed his cloth napkin on the table. He rushed towards the exit.

Spider-man figured out the problem. He rose up from his spot. "Harr! Wait!"

Flabbergasted, Norman watched as his boy left.

The doors slammed behind.

"What was that?" Agent Venom asked.

Spider-man and Spider-woman looked at each other once more.

"It has something to do with the Hollisters," she solemnly explained.

The hero fetched his napkin from the ground. He placed it on his cleared plate. "I should go talk with him."

Norman saw the other teen excusing himself. He looked back at the doors where his son left.

"No, Spider-man," he insisted. "You continue here. I'll go speak with Harry. Whatever the problem is, this is a responsibility for a father."

He turned forward and walked out of the room.

* * *

Harry busted through the closed door. He stomped through an empty room. The only company included a couch and a potted plant. He grumbled to himself. He disbelieved what he was expected to attend. His hands covered his face. His mind raced.

"Harry, what's wrong?" someone asked.

The innocent question broke through the teen's tumult. He turned around and spotted his dad. A part of him believed that his best friend would be the one to go after him. A part of him thought discussing his trouble with Peter would've been easier.

"Nothing," he grumbled. "I just needed a break."

Norman empathized with the pressure dinner parties could bring. But they were among friends. He sensed his boy's tone. He couldn't demand that the teen tell him the issue. That wasn't the new relationship that they were building. There needed to be an invitation. "Please, son, what's wrong? You can tell me anything. You know we have no secrets between us."

At one time, those last few words were false. Now, they rang with truth. The young Osborn decided to comply.

"You mentioned Mayor Hollister," he began. "How we're going to see him get into office. I don't think that's a good idea for me."

The older one raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you coming down with something?"

Harry shook his head. He tried again. "I mean for a _social_ standpoint. Mayor Hollister and during that campaigning season… I was seeing his daughter Lily."

Norman turned surprised. "You're seeing the daughter of the district attorney?"

"I _was_ seeing her. We broke up."

"You… you were together? And you broke up?"

Speaking the truth hurt. Harry spotted his father's wide eyes. He could tell his parent wanted to know when they got together and what drove them apart. Morosely, he unfolded the story. "We were seeing each other for a while. She lost her mom when she was young. I only met her father and her best friend, who she sees as a sister. One day when we were hanging out together, she asked why she hadn't met you. She thought that since I met those close to her, if we wanted our relationship to go deeper, that I should do the same. But all I could do was introduce her to Mary Jane and Peter."

The teen sadly sighed after ending his story.

Norman mulled over his son's words. He tried to recall moments where Harry asked for his time. When he wanted him to meet someone. Often, he would dismiss his son no matter what his boy was bringing up. He regretted such boorish acts. He seemed apologetic. "It was because I was busy with Oscorp, wasn't it?"

Harry didn't answer. He looked away.

Putting the company first allowed it to flourish. The competition was squashed. The industrialist didn't care how many enemies he made. Yet holding such an unhealthy dedication cost him his only family. Guilt enveloped the proud man. "Harry, I—"

"It wasn't because of Oscorp," Harry corrected.

"Then what?" Norman questioned. He knew he had no right, but he grew hurt. Softly, he guessed, "Did you not want me to meet her?"

The teen heard the growing sting. He somberly sighed. "I couldn't have her meet you. You weren't anywhere to be found… Not as The Goblin."

The real issues revealed itself. The Goblin. The green monster that impacted their lives. Such a problem continued its torment even when it was long gone.

After Harry didn't hear a response, he faced his dad. He was aware of how much anguish the man grappled with against his past sin. He tried to level with him. "I know it wasn't your fault. But what was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to let Lily know that you were The Goblin?"

He had a dual complexity. How often he put his father above everyone else. Yet he couldn't bear placing someone in danger.

Norman tried to collect himself. He sternly yet gently asked, "So what did you say? What else happened?"

"She took not meeting you as an insult. I lied. At first, I told her that she should would meet you soon. Then, I made up other excuses, like you were outta the city, then the state, then the _country_ on business. Things got tense between us. We started arguing a lot more. About petty stuff. So, we broke up."

With the pain still fresh, the teen said nothing more. He felt tears forming. He turned away. A chance for reconcile was nonexistent. Relationships could only go so far when built upon with lies and half-truths.

Norman spotted how hurt his child was. He realized his mistake. He wasn't the one who made himself a Goblin. But he still conducted a misdeed. While he was out gaining power and fighting Spider-man, he had left behind his son. Harry had tried to keep his life together, to move forward. Yet his goal was difficult to achieve.

"Harry," he called. "I'm sorry you had to go through something so unpleasant. Not even that, but by yourself. You had to make due with an awkward position even though _none_ of it was your fault."

That certainly was a nice change from the past. Usually, Norman unjustly cast the blame on his son for nearly every issue either one came into contact with. He tried to be more understanding. "I would like it if you went. But I won't force you to go. And if you want me to meet someone—a future date or a new acquaintance, I'll be there for you from now on. I promise."

Harry appreciated the support. Yet no smile came over his face. He was still lost. "So, then, what do I do? The next time my date asks about the family history? Lie?"

"I'm not saying we shroud our past or run away from it," Norman clarified. "I'm saying that we let someone in step by step. Everyone is afraid of baggage. Mine was how much I needed to work to rebuild Oscorp."

He watched as Harry looked at him. Seeing his boy's blue eyes, he smiled. "I was fortunate your mother accepted that. She allowed my past to become a part of her life."

Harry heard what his father was saying. The pain slowly faded away.

Norman stood strong in his position. "If you feel that this is the right person, then we can discuss it. Until then, it's nobody's business."

Closets held various skeletons. But such doors didn't need to be burst open right away. They had their own right to privacy.

"Let's head back," Norman smiled, placing a caring hand on his son's shoulder. "We still have guests to entertain and dessert to finish."

Harry relaxed and smiled back.

* * *

"How is your lipstick not smudging the glass?" Spider-man asked his teammate. The remaining trio had returned to their courses. The main meal was nearly finished.

The girl winked. "A matted lipstick made just for these types of occasions."

The father and son reentered the room. Harry took his seat next to the masked ruffian.

Spider-man noted the fresh attitude the younger Osborn displayed.

((Looks like that situation had been taken care of. Even when Norman was a Goblin, as Peter, I still tried being Harry's friend. I was glad Harry found a little happiness even with Norman gone. I was there when the bad news between him and Lily had split. At least now, Norman is taking his role as a father more seriously. He's finally supporting Harry.))

Norman took his position as a guide once more.

"When you get back to the table," he began. "You place the napkin on your lap again. You only need to place it on the plate when you're completely done."

He looked at his guests. They all turned back to the strict mannerisms from before. Each one already bore through difficulty in fighting villains. He sympathized with their plights. He cleared his throat, which caught everyone's attention. Lifted his glass, he offered one final guideline. "Don't forget an important rule: Relax and enjoy yourself. A party is a party."

The older Osborn took his seat next to his son.

The final dish had been served. The white ceramic cup was topped with berries. Beneath that was an appealing burnt surface.

Agent Venom was the first to take a bite. He gasped, "Wow! Who knew fancy custard could be so good?!"

The table laughed.

Harry took a few bites when his phone vibrated. He knew he shouldn't be checking his messages while he was at a dinner, but he did. Since everyone close to him was present, he was curious to know who contacted him. He looked at his screen. He noticed the name.

"Is your aunt's family back in town?" he asked the web-spinner.

Spider-man answered, "They said they'd be coming over soon for another visit. Why?"

"I just got a text from Amy. Your cousin."

"Oh, right, my cousins from my aunt's side. Amanda, Alexa, and Amy." The wall-crawler realized they had exchanged numbers. He developed a smirk. "You two did hit it off pretty well last time Amy was here. Maybe you should throw a dinner party. You can impress her with your fine etiquette skills over fusion cuisine."

"Or another wild teen party. There's always time to cut loose."

The good friends chuckled. Regardless of the title _Spider-man_ or the Osborn bloodline, they were still teens.

Norman heard the laughter and faced his son. He was glad seeing Harry smile once more. He accepted the close bond he shared with the other teen heroes. Keeping in mind the tragic matter, he hope his boy could come to him whenever he was in need. He didn't want Harry to only be concerned about his opinion. He merely wanted to keep their connection. He wanted what was best for his son. That was his responsibility as a father.

 **End** _ **A** **Father's Responsibility**_

Lily Hollister/Gray Goblin/Menace/Queen Cat, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _#545_ , 2008. For Gray Goblin/Menace, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _#_ _549_ , 2008. For Queen Cat, see _AXIS: Hobgoblin #2_ , 2015.

William "Bill" Hollister, see _Amazing Spider-Man #546_ , 2008.

Amanda, Alexa, and Amy Reilly, see _Amazing Spider-Man Annual #36_ , 2009.


	13. Fathering a Brighter Future

**Author's notes:** Interesting how this USM cartoon ended on a positive note. For one, it wasn't canceled. For another, both Osborns stayed alive with Norman even becoming good. Most inspiration for this fic will be drawn from _Amazing_ / _Spectacular_ comics storylines.

Also, I have no idea how to write babies. Enjoy!

 **Summary:** Post series/Future fic. A discussion between an experienced father and a new father of erasing family curses for future generations.

 _ **Fathering a Brighter Future**_

"Peek-a-boo!"

A young laughter filled the apartment.

"Peek-a-boo!" An adult Peter was using his Spidey mask to cover his face and reveal himself. His rich, brown hair had shortened. His chin had also developed more. He was playing the childish game with an infant.

The baby sitting on the carpet had wavy auburn hair and wore a yellow onesie. The clapping was clumsy but still displayed unbridled joy and wonder.

An adult Harry was on the other side of the living room. He combed back his well-kept auburn hair. He traded his casual but designer clothing for his own traditional business suit. Halfway lying on the ground, he kept an eye on the infant. He watched in amusement. "You're lucky babies don't remember anything. You think you'd be OK letting my son know one day?"

Peter ceased his game play. He gazed at the red mask he wore for ages. He brushed the flexible material with his thumbs. "I wouldn't want Liz to feel left out. We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Harry nodded. The once popular Midtown High student Elizabeth "Liz" Allan was now the spouse of the wealthy young Osborn. He hadn't told her about Peter's classified lifestyle, even if the beautiful blonde was Peter's past high school crush. He respected the brunet's wish. The two men, after all, had been friends for years. They knew each other's secrets. They also worked long hours. He yawned.

"Problems sleeping?" Peter asked.

"Oscorp business," Harry tiredly replied. "Plus, waking up late at night whenever Normie cries. Sometimes he's had a nightmare. Sometimes he's hungry or needs a diaper change. I'm usually the one awake, so I let Liz sleep."

He minded his newborn. The little one was gazing around with curiosity. A solemn, discursive question had been surrounding the man's mind. He would do whatever it took to keep his child safe.

"Harr?" Peter called.

The businessman snapped out of his pondering.

"C'mon, Normie," Harry gently coaxed as he sat up. "Come to Daddy."

The baby recognized who called him. Eagerly, he crawled. He was still far too young to even take steps. He squealed in delight when he reached his parent.

Peter watched the new father and his son enjoy each other's company. He noted the dark attitude but chose not to question it. Instead, he smiled. "Look at you taking charge of so much—your son, your company. And to think you were once afraid of not passing high school science."

"What are you getting at?"

"Just days gone by. Seems like yesterday we were at Midtown High."

Harry looked at his first-born. Much had changed since they last opened a textbook for school. The two met in high school. They were both graduates of Empire State University. Who Harry was currently holding meant everything to him. Gently, he released his son and allowed him to explore the safe area. "At least the four of us are neighbors now. And Flash still drops by."

Peter recalled his school bully turned friend. "Yeah, being Agent Venom for S.H.I.E.L.D. eats up alotta of his time. On the plus side, he gets to travel, too. He spent some time in Iraq. Heard he met a nice woman in Vietnam."

"I tried to get him something still within the city. I offered him a job at Oscorp. He declined. At least he found something post his football star days."

Peter turned his eyes towards a photo. It featured those he knew back at Midtown High—himself, Harry Osborn, Flash Thompson, and Mary Jane Watson now Parker. He had grown close to others who attended the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy and his college life. But these were people who were comfortable knowing his dual identity. He was also aware of his wife's previous situation. He knew about her staying with her own aunt because her father wasn't the most reliable one. He also held sympathy for Flash. The blond came from a home that was less than ideal. They were fortunate to escape it. They made new lives for themselves.

As the brunet reminisced, Harry realized he hadn't heard anything from his boy. He immediately searched for him. He sighed with relief. Little Normie sat in front of the TV. He stared at the bright screen. Smiling, he seemed to recognized someone there.

"Hey, genius," Harry called. "Your wife is on TV."

The brunet broke out of his daze. He quickly turned his attention to the screen. They watched the redhead give her story. She maintained her dimples and developed a minor clef.

Peter placed on a sad smile. "She used to spend night after night worrying about me. You know, cruising by web. Now that she's traveling all around the country, I'm the one worried about her."

The best friend sensed the pain of departure. He underwent something similar whenever he needed to travel outside the city for Oscorp business. He disliked leaving behind his wife and son. But when he returned, he made sure to let them know that he missed them. He knew his best bud's situation differed from his. Calmly, he replied, "Let her enjoy it now. She won't be able to do much traveling in the future, I'm presuming."

Nonchalantly, Peter shrugged. "Well, it's not like she needs to be concerned for her own aunt as much anymore. Aunt May and M.J.'s aunt Anna are still neighbors. It's great for them to be there for each other."

((Aunt May and Missus Watson are the best of neighbors. It's great Aunt May has a good friend to keep her company in that house. It wasn't easy for me to move outta her place. It's been my home every since my parents died and she took me in. I left when I started attending Empire State University. Aunt May was obviously sad about me moving. I was, too. But she was encouraging and knew this was something I needed to do. I'm glad she told me her house will always be my home.))

He was aware of the trials his long-time friend weathered with his own wife. While Liz was unaware of her neighbor being Spider-man, she was aware of the Osborn's ominous past. "So how goes the new hires? Was Liz especially ecstatic with who you got a job for?"

Harry understood his neighbor. "I'm grateful that Liz already knows what it's like to have family members… not always being on the right side. Looking back, it wasn't easy for either of us to have had that break up. At least now I understand why she did what she did. She was just being loyal to her blended family. Like she is now."

"Speaking of family, does it feel strange to have an ex-con part of your security team?"

"I learned a long time ago the importance of second chances. Guess I owe a thanks to my old tutor for that lesson."

The two eyes met. They smirked.

((Mark Raxton A.K.A. The Molten Man. Or, I should say, _former_ Molten Man. He was a criminal that got into a bad batch of chemicals that coated his body with a gold alloy that changed his life. He could melt anything when his body temperature rose. Hence, the name. To make matters even stranger, he's Liz's step-brother, making him Harry's brother-in-law. He's crossed paths with Spider-man before. Nearly missed my own high school graduation when Spidey first met him. Now he's looking to turn a new leaf. Considering Oscorp once was under the rule of The Goblin, it makes sense for Harry willing to give someone a second chance. Guess it's best to set a good example for future generations.))

He looked back at his godchild. He felt proud when his best friend asked him and his wife to be little Normie's godparents. Such an honorable position showed how deep their bond was. The little one seemed ready for a nap. His large, round eyes were drooping. He gave out his own yawn.

Harry spotted his best friend observing tiny Normie. He teased, "Women swoon over babies. Ever thought of expanding your family?"

The brunet blushed. "Uh…"

A wave of police cruisers interrupted the conversation. They rushed past the apartment complex. Their sirens signalized trouble. And with that trouble, no matter how minor, always stirred heroes.

"Duty calls!" Peter announced.

Young brown eyes watched in fascination as the brunet swapped his street clothes to the notorious red and blue costume. He didn't cry when the red mask covered the face.

Spider-man was prepared to leap out the window. He stopped at the frame and turned around. "Any chance Patrioteer would like to take to the sky again one day?"

Harry kept his son close to him. Keeping a straight face, he replied, "You have your responsibilities; I have mine."

Spider-man and the one under the mask respected that decision. "Then do me a solid and lock up when you leave? I don't need a robber rummaging through my comic book collections just because me and M.J. are out. What good is it giving my neighbors the spare key?"

"Don't forget: It was _this_ neighbor who helped you two find a new place to live. And how about throwing parties? Though, for theft, I doubt any insurance will cover something as _geeky_ as your collection."

"Hey, some of those issues I bought back in high school are now worth a bit more than chump change. Maybe one day someone will write adventures about _me_."

The hero shot his webs and left.

"That'll be the day." Harry turned to young Normie. "Everyone invests differently, I suppose."

He recalled a time when he wore a metal suit and flew between skyscrapers. His motivation for doing so involved the one who raised him alone. He loved and respected his father. He wanted to be that same hero in the eyes of his own son. Such a loving ambition didn't require him to wear the armor. A man in charge of a company also had a bright, loyal wife and a joyful child by his side. Protecting them and providing for them was his responsibility to take on. Fortunately, they didn't have any villains threatening the family. At least, none within immediate proximity.

He stood up. Tenderly, he gathered the baby in his arms and placed him in his stroller.

"C'mon, Normie. Let's go visit Grandpa."

* * *

The outdoors were as quiet as a cemetery. The somber atmosphere was appropriate because it was a cemetery. Soft clouds gently sailed by. Trees stood tall and offered shade. The wind blew, brushing the emerald grass. The headstones were at peace.

An older man sat on a bench. His face had grown winkles. Next to him was a bouquet of freshly cut flowers. Keeping his aged blue eyes to the ground, he was deep in thought. Now that his role as head of a vast company had waned as his son's position waxed, he had more time to ponder and reflect. Some of those meditations brought questions.

"I figured you'd be here," a familiar voice called.

He looked up at the sound. His features softened as he became elated. "Harry."

"Hi, Dad." Harry took a seat next to his aging father. He then unstrapped the youngest member of the Osborn family. He gently placed little Normie on his lap before handing him over. His first-born completed his rest while on their trip.

"And how's my grandson?" Norman asked as he accepted the newborn. Lifting him up, he held him close so he could gaze into the deep eyes.

Young hands excitedly clutched graying auburn hair.

Norman was glad how quickly acquainted small Normie became with him. He couldn't believe that his son and daughter-in-law named their first child after him. He was certain that someone from the Allan family meant something more to the new couple. He was aware of the skeletons already in their closet. But he was convinced no skeleton from their side was as big or as green.

He shook his head. He refused to allow such negativity to dwell on him.

"What brings you out from Soho?" Norman asked as he settled down his grandson. He was always present whenever Harry needed to move, like from the rebuilt Oscorp penthouse to a space closer to Empire State University. The change wasn't easy for him. But he accepted that his boy needed to have his own life.

Harry eyed the attachment between grandfather and grandson. He was glad tiny Normie bonded well with the eldest Osborn. Casually, he replied, "I was visiting Peter."

"Your neighbor?" Norman highlighted. He found it amusing how close the two high school friends stayed. They shared an apartment for a brief time while attending college as undergrads. Now, after the weddings, they were neighbors in the same apartment complex. The Parkers lived on the floor above the Osborns.

Harry chuckled at the notion. "I figured with his wife reporting stories across the nation that he'd want some company. So I brought over his godchild."

"Where is he now?"

"Taking care of his responsibilities."

Norman grasped the second meaning. He nodded. He was aware of Harry's decision about Patrioteer. The two had discussed whether or not to pursue that identity after Harry took more control of Oscorp. But he also respected the choice the young auburn made when the next generation was born. So far the only additional member to know about Harry's time as a hero was his wife.

As he noticed that Harry was alone, he asked, "Weren't Liz and Mark with you? I thought you two were showing him around the company."

"We were. We did. Now I'm letting Liz spend some alone time with her step-brother. She wants to be there for him and make sure he's adjusting to civilian life OK." He was glad he married such a nurturing soul. He knew the risks in hiring a former scoundrel. He was aware of Mark indicting Liz in helping him steal chemicals that could help heal his curse. But Liz stood by him. Mark was important to her. Harry was genuine in giving him employment. He refused to be intimidated by him. Or by anybody else anymore.

Still rather young blue eyes gazed at the ground. Such an incident was minor. Something more crucial clawed at his spirit. His face turned grim. "Besides, there's something important I want to talk to you about."

Norman noted how serious his son became. He quit his playing with little Normie and gave his full attention to Harry. "What is it?"

The untrodden businessman took a moment to collect himself. The brooding inquiry that hung over him during those late nights overcame him once more. He looked at his boy before looking at the eldest Osborn. "I want to know how old Normie can be before I give him the Goblin vaccine."

The heavy question rang in the older man's ears. His face fell. The past was still haunting the present. "Oh, Harry, how could you think of such things?"

"How could I not?!" the young man retorted. His voice overflowed with anguish.

The baby stopped his bouncy movements and looked at his distraught parent. He questioned the outburst. He became worried.

Harry composed himself. He gently rubbed the soft auburn hair. He then explained in a quieter tone, "When you were The Goblin, you were gone for so long. _I_ was almost a Goblin. I don't want that curse to come on to my son. I can't bear letting him become some Goblin Childe."

Norman heard the plea. He looked at his grandson. The brown eyes were so innocent. The path of the newborn was bright and wide. Like with Harry, Norman wanted what was best. He knew his son wasn't holding his past lifestyle against him. After all, he was permitted to have contact with young Normie. What the new father was looking to prevent was understandable.

"Let me see what I can do," he finally answered. "I'll work on the vaccine. Make sure it's safe. Meanwhile, you talk to your wife about this idea. You don't want this crossing with other shots he'll be getting. Secret keeping is rough on any marriage."

Harry relaxed. "Yeah, I will. I just wanted to get your opinion first."

He took back his son, who was always happy to see him. He was grateful to have understanding people in his life. Those days when his own father was The Goblin were long gone. Such a deep despair slowly lifted.

Norman smiled. He was glad his son continued to appraise his experience. He had grown competitive against his own father; he worked to be the better provider. But such an unhealthy outlook dropped when he and Harry reconciled. Harry always accepted Norman in his life. He showed no desire to prove to anyone that he would be a good father. The two continued their rapport.

As Norman watched them play, a new question came to his mind. "Harry, are you sure it was such a good idea to bring your son… here?"

The elder father obviously referred to the unpleasantly sights of headstones. The auburn nodded. "Yeah, there's someone I want him to meet."

Norman understood the intention. He grabbed the bouquet and came to his feet. "Then let's go see her."

He watched as his son stood up as well. There was a time when he could place his chin on top of Harry's head. Now that same young adult had reached the same height as him.

Once young Normie was strapped in his stroller, the family walked down the dirt path. It didn't take them long to find the sought after headstone. They had memorized the way—past the wooden bench but before the tall tree with a giant hole. They arrived at a particular grave. Wheels stopped where the patch of dirt started.

The young adult kneeled next to the stroller.

"Normie," Harry called. "This is your grandma Emily."

The young eyes stared ahead. He paid less attention to the headstone and focused more on the spider crawling over it. Its eight legs granted its strange movement. Other visitors may keep their graves tidy, deeming the arachnids and their cobwebs as unsightly. But the spider was doing its part in keeping the area clean from insects.

Norman placed down the fresh bouquet. He was careful not to destroy the arachnid's home. He also made sure the deceased woman's name was visible. As he brought himself up, he turned crestfallen. He had achieved his goal in bringing back honor and meaning to the Osborn name. That was his ambition he shared with Emily. She believed in him. He would always miss her.

Harry spotted the elder man's pain. The father and son had their ups and downs. Yet their bond was unbreakable. He still had his network with his best bud and their long-time friends. He was married to a caring wife and shared a healthy baby. He knew there was plenty to be thankful for. However, one qualm made it to the surface. "With us still a family and Liz keeping her ties with her step-brother… I'm glad no stupid Goblin is separating us anymore. I just wish she could've met him."

Old blue eyes left the headstone and landed on the young man's face. He noted the sad smile coming across Harry's features. He assured, "She would've been delighted to be a grandma. She was so joyous when she was a mother."

Emily Osborn had passed on her when her boy was a year old. But during that preparation, she was jubilant. Though her time wasn't long with her own newborn, she treasured those moments.

"We're still together," Norman reminded. "I'm still here. For you and my grandson."

Harry looked at his son. Affectionate eyes gazed back at him. It had been some time since the Osborn family had trickled down to a single father and his only child. Now it had been expanded. He nodded, "Yeah, there's still so much to teach Normie. Like what it means to be an Osborn. That we're family. And that we're working to make his future a bright one."

Norman placed his arm around his son, and Harry smiled.

The stroller turned with the three generations of Osborns heading out side by side.

 **End _Fathering a Brighter Future_**

Norman Harold "Normie" Osborn/Goblin Childe, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _#263_ , 1985. For Goblin Childe, see _Amazing Spider-Man #799_ , 2018.

Elizabeth "Liz" Allan-Osborn, see _Amazing Fantasy #15_ , 1962. (Properly named in _Amazing Spider-Man_ _#4_ , 1962.)

Anna May-Watson, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _#15_ , 1964.

Mark Raxton/Molten Man, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _#28_ , 1965.

Emily Lyman-Osborn, for initial appearance in a photo, see _Spectacular Spider-Man #180_ , 1991 ("The Child Within: Part 3 of 6"). For full appearance, see _Spider-Man:_ _Revenge of_ _t_ _he Green Goblin #1_ , 2000.


	14. Safeguarding the Future

**Author's notes:** A future fic that includes the more somber events that happen in the _Amazing_ comics. The obvious change is that Norman never died, and he and Harry have a good rapport with each other. Some instances had to be re-imagined to keep this a PG/K+ rating. But it'll keep the overall story and characters' triumphs and tragedies. Also, on Peter's side, it will (unfortunately) include references to the infamous "One More Day" arc. Enjoy!

 **Summary:** Future fic. Two best friends continue their support for each other while Harry Osborn makes a decision that will drastically change the lives for himself and his family.

 _ **Safeguarding the Future**_

Webs shot across the active city. The unbearable sun beat down as the sharp winds blasted. Swinging from building to building and hiding beneath their long shadows was one way to cool off.

"Another day of New York's finest weather," Spider-man mused to himself. "Fortunately, my webbing is built to stand against these gusts. I just hope any armpit stains don't show through the suit. The A/C unit in my apartment broke, and I'm towards the bottom of the list of attendants waiting for the dallying landlord to fix 'em up. It's gonna be a long _hot_ one."

He resumed his swinging, his patrolling. "I recently stopped a group of criminals from robbing a bank vehicle. I only wished it was an ice cream truck, instead. I could use a cone about now."

As he traveled closer to the companies district, he was approaching a familiar, tall building. "Hmm… I bet Oscorp has running A/C. Gonna pop in for a visit."

Landing on the soaring structure, he peered in the window towards the top. He noted the young businessman sitting behind the extravagant desk. He was working nonstop. The hero sighed.

((Me and Harry Osborn recently partnered up as Spider-man and Patrioteer. It was for a rather unhappy reason. I know he's still going through a tough time. Least I can do is spread some good news.))

He aimed to quietly let himself inside. He didn't realized the trouble such a task would bear.

The indoors of a fancy office was definitely cooler than the outdoors. Harry typed on his computer while eying important documents in his hand. He had regained his work flow from an earlier delay. Now he was about to go through another one. He received a disruptive alarm on his monitor, informing him of an intruder. The security went to work. Above him, he heard a yelp. He swirled his finger around a button on his phone, pondering its action. He pressed it, deactivating his system.

"You know, it's not as easy getting through this whole place like it once was," a voice greeted. He was almost panting. A type of searing emitted from his nearly cooked flesh.

The head of Oscorp looked up. He surveyed the red and blue costume before him. He could hear his jovial voice despite his woes. Harry came to his feet and shrugged off the grievance. "Obviously the security has changed since high school. There's a lot more to protect."

"Like what?" the web-spinner asked. "Additional technology and chemicals?"

Looking around, he spotted the difference.

"Is this your office or a nursery?" he teased.

A baby bassinet was in the corner opposite of the large windows. Attached to the removable canopy was a mobile. The theme was the Avengers. The characters included chibi forms of Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, and The Hulk.

The web-slinger noticed the inaccurate motif. At least to him. "I should get him a new mobile. One that's all Spider-man inclusive."

Harry approached his friend and chuckled. "You don't hafta buy anything. Baby showers are usually for the first born."

"It's the least I can do since the baby swing I originally got was recalled. Unless you want me to _make_ one." The wall-crawler indicated his web shooters. "I could create a carriage with two webs sticking to the ceiling. He'll have a blast bouncing around in that."

The auburn dropped his smile and glared, sending chills down the web-head's spine.

((When it comes to his kids, Harry's pretty protective.))

The masked champion sought to change the subject. "Thought I'd come by and fill you in on how the wedding planning is going. Of course, Aunt May as the bride is leaving no rock unturned. She's paying attention to every single detail. That's always been her specialty."

"And the groom?" Harry asked. "What's his say?"

"Jameson Senior is pretty laid back. Not at all like his son, the blowhard on the D.B.C."

He did feel strange that he would be related to one of Spider-man's biggest critics. But he wanted his aunt to be happy. He noted the elated smile but wistful eyes of his buddy. He also knew of the rocky times that both himself and his best friend had endured.

((Harry had long ago divorced his first marriage. Our old high school classmate Elizabeth "Liz" Osborn became Liz Allan once more. She took back her maiden name. She also kept her custody over little Normie. It was rough on Harry. But not as rough as what happened with his next girlfriend.

((His second relationship was with the daughter of the city's district attorney. Her name was Lily Hollister. They had an interesting bond: Both had lost their mother, they suffered through daddy issues, and their best friend was like a sibling to them. They also had grown up in the public eye. Both were mad about each other. When Harry proposed to her, he rented out the Statue of Liberty! Talk about flashy. Unfortunately, what had dissolved their relationship was her crime.

((Lily was caught in a conspiracy. She wanted to help her father, Bill Hollister, win the election for mayor. She did so by taking on the criminal name Menace. She placed on a goblin costume and caused mayhem at political rallies. Spider-man had the disfavor of unmasking her for the whole city to see. Harry returned as Patrioteer to give a hand when he realized who Menace was.))

He looked at his pal.

((For that couple, there was no wedding. Or even a civil union. The only walk Lily did was to a courthouse for her sentencing. She's now in prison. New York citizens called for the newly elected Bill Hollister to resign. Ashamed, Lily no longer wished to see her ex-fiancé. Months later, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. But she didn't choose the name. As the sole parent, that was Harry's job. He named his second son Stanley.))

Spider-man had also visited Oscorp to see the newborn. Red boots walked over to the bassinet. He removed his sweaty red cover. He had no worries for exposing his identity to the youngling. Placing on a smile, he set his gentle blue eyes on the infant.

Little Stanley was comfortable lying on his back. Plenty of black hair covered his head. His large brown eyes gazed back at the man before him. His round face scrunched together, showing his displeasure.

As Peter turned baffled, Harry smirked, "I think he actually prefers the mask."

"Makes sense," the brunet replied. "Spider-man was the one to save him from that prison riot."

((Going back to that chaos, Lily went into labor as prisoners caused a breakout. Luckily, that birthing process was a quickie. Stanley came out with no complications. The tough part was keeping him outta the hands of criminals looking to use him as leverage. It's a good thing Spider-man helped out. No telling what I would do if something terrible had happened to him, though.))

Peter playfully wavered his sticky mask for Stanley. He watched as the infant turned gleeful towards the familiar red fabric. Tiny arms and little hands stretched forward. A hearty smile came to his face. "It's so interesting how quickly babies develop their own personalities—their own likes and dislikes."

"He definitely cries less than Normie—" The auburn cut himself off. He never meant to compare one child to the other. He vowed he would never commit such a sin after all he went through.

Peter picked up the lull in their conversation. He ceased his play and turned towards his buddy. "Harr?"

Small Stanley placed his arms down and stared at his parent. The baby could already sense whenever something ailed his father.

The businessman snapped out of his brooding. Turning towards his long-time friend, he smiled, "You better get going. There's probably a lotta trouble stirring on the streets. The city needs Spider-man."

He cast his eyes on his son. He gently placed the back of his fingers on the round cheek. "They need that protection."

The brunet accepted the bid to leave. He dutifully placed on his mask. "You're right. I got a calling to fulfill. Back to the blazing streets for me."

As he left Oscorp with an easier exit, he continued his swinging. Many citizens marched below him. Action and drama was found in every corner. His eyes soon caught something red crossing the street. Stopping his ride, he landed on a building only a few floors above. He watched someone.

"I haven't given the invitation of Aunt May's wedding yet to Mary Jane."

The woman was now working at Stark Industries. He understood the invite would need to be delivered at a later time. Police cruisers sounded their alarm, so he began to swing in that direction, opposite of her.

Anytime he thought about his past relationship with that redheaded stranger, it all just felt like a dream.

Back inside Oscorp, Harry kept an eye on his totting buddy. He didn't know the whole story between Peter and his redheaded love interest. He was in Europe overseeing Oscorp International. When he returned, he was told that it was over between them. But he couldn't dig around. He had his own issues to resolve. He hoped his bad luck in relationships didn't negatively impact his best friend.

"Was that Spider-man?" a masculine voice asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered as he returned to reality.

Iron Patriot entered, pounding metal followed behind him. He lifted his visor. His eyes fell on the bassinet. "What did he think of the new security?"

"He hates it. Which means it's working."

While Norman's position at Oscorp had softened, he still completed his duty as Iron Patriot. He felt the need to correct his mistakes of the past. However, his time outside the office didn't restrain his wits or drive. With any tarriance, he was still quick to his point. "Any luck with Normie?"

Although the room only contained three generations of Osborns, the atmosphere grew quiet.

Earning visitation rights was difficult for the current head of Oscorp. Though the Allans had Molten Man, all criminals seemed less atrocious than The Goblin. It wasn't only the Osborn heritage that caused problems. It was those Harry had surrounded himself with. His imprisoned ex-fiancée and job-hunting best friend weren't reliable sources for a character reference. He also couldn't retrieve Flash Thompson in time because of his role as Agent Venom. However, that wasn't the only dilemma.

When Harry thought he heard something, his eyes immediately traveled to the bassinet. The noise was only little Stanley moving around. The youngling was becoming comfortable sitting up and falling back down. Rarely did tears fall down his face.

"I want to spend time with Normie," Harry confessed. "But I can't leave Stanley behind."

He could only meet up with small Normie at a park. Despite the child's plea for exclusive attention, the young father watched over his other son. He knew of the jealousy that arose in his first born. Guilt washed over him. He at one time felt the same from his best friend and his father. He felt hypocritical.

Norman observed Harry. A pain grew inside him. Even with his son as an adult, he still wanted to enact his role as a father. "I know you are doing your best. But you still have me to help out."

He placed a metal hand on his son's shoulder. "I want to be there to help Normie and Stanley. I love both my grandsons."

Harry was touched. His father had stood by him when he was enduring his divorce. They had their disagreements when the young Osborn revealed he wanted to propose to Lily. But Norman accepted that. He backed away from reprimanding his son on that fault.

Before either Osborn could speak, a machine on the owner's desk beeped a distressed call.

"Oh, shoot," Harry grumbled, breaking away from his parent.

"What is it?" Norman asked.

"I meant to re-fill the paper for this fax machine. But I got distracted by Stanley when he needed to blow his nose. Now I'm getting a long fax. And the supplies are downstairs."

"I'll take care of it," Norman insisted. "You stay here with Stanley."

The young businessman watched as the older Osborn removed his armor and left. He was grateful to have his father by his side. He couldn't imagine running an entire company without him.

A heavy pressure mounded on him. A divorce indicated what needed to be split. Both father and son were fighting to keep Oscorp theirs. Harry couldn't tussle for his company and watch over an infant at the same time. He also refused to place that strain on his only parent. Norman had already bore through that agony when he was rebuilding Oscorp. His best friend was also still traveling and fighting crime. Harry accepted that Stanley was his responsibility. He also accepted he needed help.

He sat at his computer. He went to work putting together an ad for a wanted nanny position.

* * *

The young Osborn's private apartment covered the entire floor. He had long moved out of that shared space between himself and his ex-wife. He had said farewell to his old neighbors; Peter and Mary Jane had also decamped after their own split-up. Meanwhile, Liz and little Normie moved to the suburbs. She made a special underground containment for her step-brother. Mark Raxton, still under the influence of his chemical accident, literally burned whenever his former brother-in-law was mentioned. In his own place, Harry now had his bedroom with a California king-size bed. He had the spare changed into a nursery. He allowed his best friend to occasionally crash on his luxurious sofa in between missions and apartment hopping.

Harry stood in front of his extravagant bathroom sink. His sleeves were rolled up. He had removed his tie. A portable baby washbasin was securely placed below the movable faucet. He was giving Stanley a bath. He tenderly washed the soft skin and black hair. The infant had loads of locks when he was born. He seemed rather calm sitting in his own spa.

Using his wrist to avoid his soap-covered fingers, the young father carefully rubbed his eye. He was hoping Stanley would fall asleep. He wanted a break before the afternoon. But coffee and energy drinks supplied only so much energy. The baby also showed plenty of stamina. Harry wanted his son out of sight before any consultations began. He didn't want anyone to actual see the newborn until after the first round of interviews and he narrowed his selection.

"Harry?" a robust voice called from another room.

The auburn recognized it. "Yeah, Dad. I'm in the bathroom with Stanley."

Footsteps came closer. The older Osborn entered the doorway. He wasn't wearing his Iron Patriot armor but his usual business suit. His revealed auburn hair was growing grayer, which went hand and hand with the winkles covering his face. He observed the habitual activity. "Giving him a bath so early?"

"He spat up some baby formula that soaked through his clothes," Harry replied. His young one showed no signs of growing even a single tooth yet; eating solid food was far in the future. He then smiled, "Better this than changing his diaper and he wets himself. Or me. Though, that's a different story with Peter. He thinks Stanley does it on purpose."

He grinned recalling his buddy's attempts in changing diapers. The brunet had practice with his godchild. But between little Normie and the birth of Stanley, he was out of practice. Spider-man could dodge bullets and fists no problem. Peter, however, couldn't pounce past a urinal track.

Norman stepped closer. His aged blue eyes met with a blossoming set of brown. The innocence of a baby greeted him. A smile came to his own face. "He'll understand when he has his own son. Once he settles down, that is."

That remark caused Harry to pause. The break up between Peter and Mary Jane seemed mutual; the two continued to speak to one another. That was more than Harry could say about himself and Liz. He couldn't keep his mouth shut. Resuming the bathing process, he argued, "C'mon, Dad, Peter just has different responsibilities. Besides, having children doesn't always mean settling down."

He looked at his parent. "It didn't stop you expanding Oscorp."

He then returned to his baby, who quietly scoped everything around in such awe. As he pat dried his son, he thought about his best friend. He believed Peter would need someone who was comfortable with his dual personas. He thought he found someone when he brought up The Goblin and the Osborn heritage. No luck came for either man. But that chance didn't interrupt his care for his children.

Norman sealed his lips from such remarks. He had viewed everything he did was a matter of choices. Often, his decisions left him preferring company matters over his only son. Looking at the young businessman and the focus he was giving the infant, he knew Harry was merely teasing him.

He cleared his throat. "Well, Oscorp will have another celebration dinner. Perhaps Peter can meet someone there."

"Only as Spider-man. I doubt Peter will at any of these soirées. He fumbles too much with his words."

With the baby finally clean, Harry lifted Stanley and proceeded to the nursery. He had prepared a fresh set of clothing on a changing table. His father followed. As Harry switched outfits on the newborn, he did so in silence. He wondered what brought over his parent. There had been no calls from Oscorp. But he declined to ask. If Norman made the trip for a matter that couldn't be done over the phone, than he could introduce the topic.

The older Osborn watched his son. The young man in front of him had changed since his high school days. He was managing the company well, he kept his ties with his best friend, and he took care of his children regardless of his marital troubles. He even found a new apartment so quickly. The whole place was peaceful.

As his own situation came to front, Norman asked, "Harry, are you and Stanley happy here?"

There's the question. There's the reason he came over.

Harry kept himself in front of Stanley. He firmly replied, "Dad, I've told you before. It's safe here. Stanley has room to explore and get his exercise, and I have my clear pathway to Oscorp. If there's any trouble with the company, I just grab the stroller and head out the door."

Norman bore trouble accepting that response. Perhaps he had earlier asked such questions because of his own selfish intentions. But as he observed his son, he noted how weary he became. The stress was piling over him like raindrops, which could lead to flooding. He walked closer.

"The offer still stands," he insisted. "You and Stanley can move to the manor with me."

The Osborn manor was beyond the city, past the suburbs. The mansion had its own iron gates and spacious land. It was the home the Osborns lived in before moving to the penthouse atop of Oscorp. Norman then lightly added, "It is a rather large place."

Harry refused to face him. He believed his father was feeling lonely. As a once prominent businessman, he had his share of fellow men with power. Iron Patriot had his own fans cheering for him. Yet that wasn't the same as having a family around. Though they had discussed it, Norman had briefly seen other women; he never re-married. Harry respected that. He only wanted his father to be happy. However, he couldn't approve this idea. He shook his head. "The manor is _way_ out of the city. It's too much to travel back and forth. Especially with Stanley."

"You can always entrust Stanley with me."

"I don't want him traveling so often. He needs to grow up in a stable environment. In any case, I have my own commitments to keep… I need to continue living my own life."

"And you plan on constantly working yourself _this_ hard?"

"You did."

The older man's fault was exposed. Frowning, he lowered his head. "I know. And that was my mistake. I don't want you or either of your sons to make the same ones. That's why I thought—even if it's just you, me, and Stanley—we could still have each other for needed support."

Harry grew amazed. As he finished clasping Stanley's onesie, he reflected. He realized how much his father had changed ever since he was cured of his Goblin persona. He understood his parent only wanted for his family to have a better future. His eyes fell on the wall clock. He was pressed for time.

"Dad, if you're so concerned with everything, will you take Stanley for the afternoon? I have some… potential clients to interview."

Norman shot his head up for the opportunity to be involved. However, he sensed the anxiety in his son. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," the young businessman answered. "Remember all those times you told me that Oscorp will one day be mine? Now it is. I need to have my hand firm in management."

He faced him and smiled, "Besides, it's not so bad for a grandson to be with his grandpa."

Norman smiled back. He was glad that his son permitted him to take guardianship over Stanley. He surmised that Harry placed in hard work for both family and business and needed a break. Family helping family members was a way to keep their connection.

The older Osborn lovingly held his clean grandson, who was enjoying his newfound ability in kicking. Harry prepared the stroller. It wasn't a second-hand carriage that he once used with little Normie. As children grow, new and improved products hit the shelves. Harry ensured that each of his sons received their individual attention.

Harry then securely placed Stanley in his seat. As the large, brown eyes looked at him, he placed a hand on the infant's round cheek.

Norman set his hands on the stroller's handles. He did have his duty as Iron Patriot to carry out. But his most important responsibility was his family. "We can meet up for dinner, if you want."

"Sure," Harry agreed as he stood up. He was hoping his meetings would finish up by then. "Oh, but if Stanley falls asleep, don't wake him."

He watched as the grandpa and grandson exited. At one time, he would submissively watch his father walk out so he could return to his office. Though their bond had improved, he retained a somber attitude with the departure from his second son. He knew he needed to adapt to that feeling.

Once the door closed, he sat back at his desk in his home office. His blue eyes stared at the screen.

He had received dozens of applications for the job. All applicants wanted their foot in the door to a successful company. His old high school friends like Flash Thompson and Mary Jane Watson teased him about hiring Peter. But Harry refused to place on extra stress for the wall-crawler. Reviewing his electronic stacks, he couldn't trust Stanley to just anyone. He needed to make the hiring process rigorous. He executed all he could to ensure his son's future was safe.

The doorbell rang. He went to answer it.

At the door was a tall woman. Her brown hair smoothed itself around her head but became wavy towards her round shoulders. A dark colored lipstick covered her lips. Her manicured fingers held green nail polish. She smiled in a well-bred manner.

"Hello, I'm here to be interviewed for the nanny position," she greeted. "My name is Emma."

 **End** _**Safeguarding the Future**_

John Jonah Jameson, Senior, see _Amazing Spider-Man #_ _578_ , 2009. For marriage to Aunt May, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _vol._ _1_ _#_ _600_ , 2009. For appearance of death, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _vol. 4_ _#_ _19_ , 2016.

Stanley Osborn, see _Amazing Spider-Man #642_ , 2010.

Emma (Emily Lyman-Osborn), see _Amazing Spider-Man #7_ _8_ _9_ , 2018.


	15. The Osborn Curse

**Summary:** Sequel to _Safeguarding the Future_. Norman confronts Harry's new hired nanny Emma.

 _ **The Osborn Curse**_

"You hired a _nanny_?!" Norman questioned, shouting. His voice demanded an explanation. Despite his graying hair, he continually held himself as a powerful man. He expected others to comply. Including his own son.

The two Osborns were in Harry's apartment. Norman stood on his feet, and Harry sat on his couch. An open laptop rested on a glass coffee table. The controversy was between a father-now-grandfather and a son-now-father. Little Stanley was kept in his nursery, napping. He was far away from the dispute.

Harry rolled his eyes. He despised his father's tone. The man was treating him like a reckless high school student over a savvy head of a company. He wondered if any of his actions would ever please him. He knew Norman had yet to meet Emma, the newly hired nanny. He waited for the right time. He dreaded the clash that was beginning.

"What's the big deal?" the young man argued. "I'm taking responsibility for Stanley. So I hired an extra hand? So what?"

"So what?!" Norman repeated. He became exasperated. Shutting his eyes, he placed his thumb and index finger around his furrowed eyebrows. "Harry, when you hire someone to help you raise kids, you're surrendering time that should be spent with them. You may even rely on the hired help and forget about them. Normie and Stanley may even get _attached_ to her. Did you ever think of that?"

The name of his first child struck a chord in Harry. He sprang up.

"No! Not Normie!" he corrected.

Norman was shocked by his boy's outburst. He stared at him.

Harry felt his fists clench automatically. He sought to control his temper. He sharply exhaled. "Emma won't be running around with him. Me and Liz already made an agreement. Whenever it's my day to spend with Normie, Emma will be watching over Stanley. My time with Normie has gotta be one-on-one. I don't want him getting jealous over Stanley."

He knew he had committed that same sin. He recalled his own green-eyed attitude over his best friend and his father. He decided to take control of the issue before the issue took control of them. He acknowledged the situation at hand. "Jealousy is a fact of life. He'll need to learn how to handle those emotions. But it's not that simple."

He concluded in a lower voice, "If Stanley wasn't Normie's half-brother, that'd be different."

He turned around. He hid his defeat. He accepted Liz held no responsibility for Stanley. The infant was conceived between himself and his then-fiancée Lily Hollister. But she remained in prison for her crimes as Menace. Her sentencing was extended after that attempted prison breakout. Her own father, Bill Hollister, also had his hands full with the mayor election disaster. Neither showed interest in Stanley. The newborn only had his dad for protection.

Norman heard his son. He observed his sullen body posture. He understood how much effort Harry placed in to that arrangement. The young auburn was willing to strike a balance with someone who had a frayed rapport. He wasn't focusing on lecturing his boy. Yet something still stirred in him. He huffed. "If you needed help, why didn't you ask for it?"

Harry sensed the changed tone. His father sounded like he was excluded from the family. The older Osborn sounded hurt. He scorned how his parent presumed that.

"Because Stanley is my responsibility!" Harry roared as he spun around. "He is _my_ son! What I choose to do with him is my business!"

The two fell into silence.

Age didn't soften Norman. His skills in verbally crossing swords stayed sharp. However, what was more important wasn't winning but staying present for his boy. He picked up the remorse in his son's voice. As the Osborn family expanded, he opposed lines drawn. He knew he needed to show support over control.

"Yes, Normie and Stanley are your sons," the older man agreed. "I respected your choice in asking Peter to be Normie's godparent. I was always happy just being the role of grandpa. And as a grandparent, I believe I do carry certain responsibilities."

Harry fought to release his growing frustration. He wasn't looking to deny either of his sons opportunities with their grandpa. Such a connection was a gift. Especially since he was unable to have it for the longest time. He understood how his father worked tirelessly to keep his ties.

Calming himself, he replied, "Dad, it's not just about Stanley. You know it's also about Oscorp. Blocking it from the claws of Alchemax. I'm trying to keep what belongs to the family in the family."

He couldn't be angry at his ex-wife. She had returned her wedding ring instead of throwing it away. He tried to work with her on other issues. He enlisted a team of Oscorp scientists to aid her step-brother Mark Raxton in controlling his Molten Man powers. He didn't know if he and his ex were working together for the sake of little Normie or if there was something else. But he couldn't walk away from Oscorp. That was his legacy he was preparing for ever since he was born. Back in high school, he only wanted to make his father proud. Now, it was his time to show he could carry on the torch without the curse of The Goblin hanging over him. Little Normie and Stanley had their vaccine given.

Norman appreciated his son's endeavors towards the company. He himself had invested endless hours of his own labor in rebuilding it. But he had his regrets, namely choosing his company over his son. He never wanted the current head to make that same mistake. He only question Harry's choice for his children. "If your plan is keeping the family first, then why hire someone outside the family?"

"Who else is there?" Harry asked back. "I'm doing what I can for them while running Oscorp. I never want to become so overwhelmed that I lash out at either of them. If there's any crisis when they're with you… Iron Patriot will need to take to the skies."

The auburn knew his father would drop everything to save his grandchildren should danger arrive. He didn't want to discourage his only parent from pursuing his honorable service. Instead, he smiled, "I like the idea that Normie and Stanley can see their grandpa as a hero. Like the way I do."

Norman became speechless. How Harry viewed him mattered to him. He was the same as always in the eyes of his son.

"There's nothing wrong with trusting new people," Harry added. He tried recalling what his buddy mentioned on occasions. "If you didn't let me stop the limo on that rainy day, then I wouldn't have really gotten to know Peter. That's why I hired Emma. There are some things Stanley will only get from her. Normie has his mother. For me, it was Peter's aunt. And I didn't meet her until high school. If Emma is the only female influence in Stanley's early life, then I don't see a crime in that."

He thought about May Parker. He did love her. He was grateful for the time she had babysat his first born. His mind played tidbits of his little boy sharing his day with her, like the two of them baking cookies together. He knew small Normie and May created lasting memories.

The older man heard the point. The benevolent woman made a positive impact on his son. Neither of the young boys had a grandma.

Harry spotted his father seeing his side. He disliked how he always needed to explain himself and his decisions to him. He had his own life to live and choices to follow through. Standing firm, he bade, "Promise me you won't go snooping around to find anything about Emma."

Norman gawked. He disbelieved the inquiry. He disbelieve what was being asked. "What?"

"I know I made mistakes in the past. I know I did a lotta foolish things as Patrioteer when I was a teen. I know I fall too easily for the fairer sex." Harry surveyed his failed relationships with Liz and Lily. He had called off his latest one with Amy Riley, Peter's cousin, when he took in Stanley. He wasn't parading his flaws but opted how he was handling them. Soundly, he continued, "But I'm not letting just _anyone_ watch over Stanley. I did a background check on Emma. She had no criminal record. Not even a parking ticket. She has her C.P.R. and food handlers certifications. I can trust her."

He looked at his only parent straight in the eye. "So when I ask you not to go digging around, I want you to show me that you trust my judgment."

Norman reviewed his son's request. A father guided his son. He also gave his validation. "Alright. I won't."

Harry heard the hesitation. He still aimed to work with his father. "If you wanna meet her, she'll be here this evening. Peter's coming over. He said he had something important to discuss."

"Could it be related to Spider-man?" Norman questioned. He doubted if Harry could handle Patrioteer to his list of duties.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it's just about his newest relationship. I asked Emma to watch Stanley so we can talk privately."

He knew his best buddy also bore trouble keeping a girlfriend. Currently, Peter was seeing someone. The auburn suspected she was a hero as well. But even superpowers couldn't guarantee a happy relationship. He sensed a fault. Should something happen, the two pals still had each other for support.

Before anyone spoke, a baby's alerted babbling rang in Harry's ears. He bolted for the nursery.

Norman stood in place as the new father tended to his son. His eyes fell on the laptop. Harry was preparing to submit the standard rejection letter. Norman decided to relieve him of that trivial task. His eyes studied the email list. He pondered why the auburn was rejecting some applicants with higher education or at least a focus on child care. Placing a thumb near his lower lip, he didn't know much about Emma. He easily found her name and application. He analyzed her information. He narrowed his eyes.

It was like her résumé was tailored not for the job, but for the employer. It all sounded too good to be true.

* * *

The pale light of the full moon filled the nursery. The stuffed animals and paint job glowed in a calm light. A baby's cooing echoed. He didn't exert any extra energy to roam around the room. He merely enjoyed the attention he was receiving.

Emma, the new hired nanny, held him. Her matured gaze took in the infants features—from his large, brown eyes, to his messy black hair, to his small mouth. He had yet to have his dinner. But no tears streamed down his face. No whimpers ripped from his little throat. He was only agreeable when the word "bottle" came to him. She gently placed him down in his crib. Her wavy brown hair drooped past her round shoulders. Her lips covered in a black lipstick curved upwards. She allowed Stanley to grasp two of her slender fingers decorated in green nail polish.

A grim voice greeted her from behind, "Hello, Emma."

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She whipped around. Her widened brown eyes spotted the former businessman standing in the doorway. She exhaled to calm herself. "Oh, hello, Mister Osborn."

It was the first time Emma engaged Norman face to face.

"I don't think we've properly met," the nanny insisted. She swept her hair behind her ear and placed on a well-bred smile. "I'm Emma. I'm the new hire to watch over Stanley."

Norman stood in place. His blue eyes were raw. His facial expression was grisly. He kept his hands at his side. "So Harry told me."

The atmosphere stiffened. Neither adult spoke. Little Stanley watched. He became fascinated with the interactions between his two caretakers.

Emma grew uneasy. She didn't know if Norman was merely checking on Stanley. Harry had jokingly warned her about his father's persistence in reigning control. However, she wouldn't stop her contract. She casually remarked, "I was putting Stanley down so I could go prepare his bottle."

If Norman wished to oversee the infant, she couldn't deny him that. He was Stanley's grandparent. She fixed herself to exit the room. She walked past him.

"I took a look at your résumé," Norman remarked as he stood in place. "I see you haven't told Harry everything… _Emily_."

The nanny stopped walking. She turned around. She was completely shocked.

The older Osborn faced her. He gazed at the woman soaking in the moonlight. He felt something stir inside of him. It was familiar and warm. Yet he kept his anger up front. "Surprised I found out?"

The brunette understood her charade was over. At least around him. There was no running away from Norman Osborn. Despite the vigorous man she was up against, Emily kept herself grounded. "I didn't think you'd still be alive. I thought your foul temper would've gotten the best of you."

Rage flickered in Norman's eyes. He thought back to his son's attitude and how Harry worked to control himself. He knew anger would bring his end had he not changed. "I've improved. I have my son to thank for that."

Another wave of silence came between them.

Norman had done his research. The woman accepting the situation without any delay confirmed everything. Sometimes he wished he was wrong. With the return of his ex-wife, numerous questions bombarded his mind. He began his interrogation. "Why have you come back?"

Emily kept her aging brown eyes on him. What was once between them had long been extinguished. She coolly replied, "There was a job opening."

"And you needed to take it? How did you even find that? Have you been watching Harry?" Norman always had a problem carrying an overly suspicious outlook. He had foes both for Oscorp, his time as The Goblin, and his new role as Iron Patriot. No matter the circumstance he did what he could to keep his son from the hands of their enemies.

"It's not like I took any of your wealth when I left," the brunette answered. Her response elicited his rage. She spotted his growing anger. She was familiar with his splenetic attitude. She was done defending herself against him. Holding her head high, she added, "If you insist on hiring someone new, then you go talk with Harry."

"Don't speak like you're on friendly terms with him!" Norman snapped. He thought about those close with his son. Harry had his long-time friends from Midtown High, classmates from Empire State University, business partners from Oscorp, and his teammates from his days at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. He even thought about the auburn's best friend and his aunt. "You are merely associating with him because of this paid position. You have no business in doing what takes time to gain that trust."

Hurt flickered in Emily's eyes. She despised how the nine months she had carried Harry meant nothing to the older Osborn. She scorned,"It's not like a mother could know her child when she's dead."

Norman knew what she was invoking. He showed no remorse. "You left him when he was only a year old. I couldn't very much well explain to a child that his mother had abandoned him."

"So you told him I was _dead_?" Emily questioned, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat. She refused to break down.

The former businessman grew absolutely surprised by the shared information. "He mentioned that private family matter? To the _nanny_?"

Emily clenched her fist. She denied taking the abuse any second longer. She spat, "Harry may be your son, but he isn't as _cold_ as _you_."

The remark stung. Pieces began to return to the older Osborn's recollection. Perhaps his own mind had twisted his cherished memories. Perhaps instead of unearthing a precious metal, he had instead found pyrite. Fool's gold. He replied, "Sure, it was a white lie. You might as well have been."

The inclination cut deep. Perhaps the woman at one time had wished for that while she was married to such a brute. She later acted upon it when the opportunity came. Without a pause, she reminded, "Harry isn't your property. He's free to hire whomever he wishes."

Norman stared at the brunette in front of him. It was clear that she wasn't going anywhere. Not this time. "You never were only interested in the job. What is it you're really after?"

Emily hated the endlessly accusations thrown at her. She depicted the role of the caring wife, and all she received was backlash. Her childhood sweetheart had morphed into a monster. A monster consumed by greed, wrath, and revenge. An opportunity came for her to see all that she missed. Or rather, what was stolen from her. "Have you never learned the value of love and family, Norman? What is it to you? Maybe I just wanted to see my grandsons!"

Something inside Norman exploded. Emily was aware of his foul relationship with his parents. He recalled all the times he himself had neglected Harry. However, he fought to correct those faults. "What right do you have to see them when you didn't want anything to do with your actual son?!"

A baby's crying interrupted the altercation. The barking frightened him. The tense atmosphere made him anxious. He expressed his grief in the only manner he knew how.

"Now look what you did!" Norman yelled.

"What _I_ did?" Emily questioned. She recalled all the blame the man casted on everyone. She made the mistake of comparing the mulish Osborn to his late father. She made that mistake only once.

Steps rushed towards the room.

"What's going on?!" Harry shouted.

Following behind him was Peter. "Everything OK up here?"

The two middle-aged adults looked to the two young men. Both wore traditional business suits and had their hair combed back. To a stranger, it would seem like a pair of brothers had entered. But no one there was a stranger.

Harry looked at his father and then at Emma. Neither one said anything. He still heard Stanley bawling. Such an act was odd because the newborn was pretty easy-going. Harry sprinted past them and headed for the crib. He picked up his son. He tried to sooth his wailing infant. He tenderly brushed the bulbous head, allowing the soft black hair to run between his fingers. The ambrosial trait reminded him of Lily and her original color.

Once the baby realized he was with his father, he ceased his weeping.

When Harry was pleased to have his baby relaxed, he said, "I was giving Peter business advice for Parker Industries. And then we heard shouting."

He couldn't stand the idea of his second child undergoing negligence. He never wanted either of his children to feel what he did growing up. He scowled. "Why was Stanley crying with no one doing anything?"

His enraged eyes darted between the other adults. Norman was the grandpa; he insisted on the job. Emma was the nanny; it was her paid position. He didn't need to wait long for an answer.

Norman pointed his finger. "Harry, do not trust this woman here!"

He didn't care if his son was angry. He needed justice.

Out from the shock, Harry and Peter turned to the nanny.

Emily felt the unwanted attention on her. She explained, "Harry, I was on my way to get Stanley's bottle when Mister Osborn stopped me."

She felt the scowl of her ex-husband burning through her. But she wanted to prove her innocence. Her innocence at the moment.

Harry would always follow his father. At the moment, he had no reason to doubt his hired help.

"Dad," he called. "What are you talking about?"

Something then clicked in his mind. He grew suspicious. "Why shouldn't I trust her?"

Peter watched the strained situation unfold. Keeping an eye on his best friend, he noted Harry's demeanor. He refused to speak so the Osborn family could talk.

Norman observed his son. He could see him taking her side. If lines were to be drawn, he needed to take action against traitors. He knew he had the burden of testimony. Filled with his drive, he declared, "This woman isn't who she claims to be! I have my proof!"

He slammed a tabbed file folder on the table.

Two pairs of young blue eyes stared at the folder. Peter then looked at Harry. Curiosity began its way in the auburn, like an overrunning creek.

The other pairs of older eyes met. The woman's eyes were showing her growing uneasy. The older man's eyes showed he was willing to protect his son.

"Harry," Norman called. "Give me Stanley and look at what I've found. There's no woman here named _Emma_."

The woman turned mute. She lost all the stamina she built against her ex-husband. She could do nothing to defend herself.

Harry heard his father. Yet the strong man's order was faint. Countless thoughts raced in his head. He looked around the room. He wanted to trust his father, yet he had given him a new command to blindly accept. His new hired nanny remained speechless. Secrets had been gathered behind his back. Just like all those years ago when he was a teen. As Harry began to fall in and out of reality, he only clearly heard his son's babbling. He gazed at little Stanley, who stared back at him with undoubting eyes.

Keeping his son close, Harry backed away. His father obviously broke his promise. But Norman Osborn had earned his streak in his precisions. Emma could easily be someone he shouldn't trust. Especially not with his second child. Photos could be manipulated. Documents could always be forged. His breathing tightened. His heart rate picked up.

"Harr," a gentle voice called.

He nearly jumped. He looked to his side and noticed Peter standing next to him. The blue eyes showed his concern.

((I've crossed paths with Emma multiple times. When I first met her, my Spider-sense didn't go off. Who knows what info Norman found? He isn't the type to bluff. Stanley seems OK with her. Can I really say how dangerous she is? Then again, this isn't my choice to make. The least I can do now is help out my bud. He seems more than jittery. And I've seen this anxiety happen to him before.))

"Look," he began. "There's obviously something going on. Lemme take Stanley. I'll watch over him while you talk this misunderstanding out."

As usual, the brunet preserved his ability in giving the benefit of the doubt. It was any wonder he maintained the innocent attribute in the ruthless world of business.

Harry began to piece himself back together. He shook his head. "I couldn't ask you to do that. You have your own company to get back to."

"Yes, a _company_. Not a _family_. You know Aunt May is down at F.E.A.S.T. giving the community a hand. I can get back to reading boring emails later. Like Rome, the Uncle Ben Foundation isn't built in a day."

((Never thought yours truly would ever be head of his own company, did you? Neither did I. Parker Industries has been successful. Even J. Jameson Senior, father of J. Jonah Jameson and Aunt May's fiancé, is my biggest investor. I keep its headquarters in the Baxter Building, so no one else could own the former home of the Fantastic Four. Now I'm looking to start up an organization that benefits others. Of course, I named it after my own hero.))

Guilt began weighing down on Harry. His closest buddy was always helping him out. He asked, "But what about… your other _responsibilities_?"

It had been years since Harry last wore his Patrioteer armor. Not including his pained time bringing in his ex-fiancée. Juggling running Oscorp and raising two sons took his time. Those were his commitments. Peter may had started Parker Industries and funded his newest institution, but he had less obligations to take care of. Acting as Spider-man was still his calling.

Peter smiled, "Then you better get talking. I'll feed Stanley his bottle and come back after that."

Since Peter trusted his best friend with his biggest secret, Harry knew he could trust him with his greatest treasure. He gently handed over the infant.

"Better make it quick," Peter teased. "You know how Stanley guzzles down his formula."

Stanley had since quieted down. His round eyes stared at the man holding him, and he gave no negative reaction. He had ultimately taken to Peter, opposite of his half-brother when little Normie was born. Peter gazed down at the newest youngling. A smile grew on his face.

((I know it's my job to maintain my network with those who are still close to me. Holding Stanley makes me wonder what my own future holds—beyond the number crunching and wearing brightly colored tights. I'm at least grateful that my best friend still stands by me. Harry fights to keep what's important. He's giving me a hand despite his own hardships. I couldn't ask for a better brother.))

Peter looked at Harry. He already knew what enveloped his mind. He assured, "Contrary to what you think, this isn't the Osborn Curse."

The brunet and the baby left the room.

Who was left was the father, his son, and the woman who was recently hired. The file remained in place, untouched. The young auburn gathered his strength. He took control of the situation. He made the first move.

"I think you should leave for tonight," Harry directed at the nanny. "I want to talk to my dad by himself."

His blue eyes glared at the man who raised him alone.

The woman turned speechless once more. She couldn't remember anyone standing up to Norman Osborn like that. Yet she admitted to herself that she didn't know the young auburn in front of her. Perhaps she would never become acquainted with him. Her heart had been proud in seeing who Harry had grown to. Even with her out of the picture. Keeping her despondent eyes to the ground, she quietly left.

Norman kept his own aged eyes low. He remained in place as the feminine footsteps exited out of his proximity. Perhaps for good.

The father and son stood in silence.

The young auburn glowered as he crossed his arms over his chest. The folder in front of them was proof of something else. He waited for an explanation.

Norman looked at his boy. He knew of his misdeed. Detached, he confessed, "Yes, I did some research on her."

"I can't believe you!" Harry yelled. He felt foolish for expecting a different answer. Embittered, he stomped around the room.

"Harry, please, there's no need to act like teenager."

"How can I calm down with this insult hurled in my face?! I thought you trusted my judgment!?"

"Son, I can see how this hurts you. I know I broke many promises when you were growing up. But this is one of those times I needed to go back on my word."

Harry was more than hurt. He felt betrayed. He needed to let his father know that. "Like all those times you left me for Oscorp? When you were teaming up with Ock to go against Spider-man all those years ago? What explanation could possibly trump _trust_?!"

Despite the past sins, Norman remained even-tempered. He learned to accept his crimes and sought to reprimand them. He may had embraced more of his identity as Iron Patriot, but Norman Osborn still carried his own power. In a controlled voice, he answered, "Protecting my son and grandsons."

Harry ceased his outburst. He looked at his father. The statement seemed truthful; Norman no longer continuously changed his definition of family.

"This wasn't about double-guessing your judgment," Norman assured. "Nor my paranoia. It was my parental instinct. The same nature you felt seconds ago for Stanley."

The auburn heard his son's name. He looked to the crib.

Norman was proud of his son for the dutiful action he took. Safeguarding his child was the pledge for any father to accept and enact.

"You're an adult with your own life and children," he began. "I do respect that. It was… _Emma_ I needed to look in to."

He watched his wording. He couldn't unfold the truth; his boy was far too frazzled to properly digest such knowledge at the moment.

Harry picked up the sincerity. He knew he couldn't continue acting so boorish himself. He had examples to set. Managing his temper, he said, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep throwing The Goblin and your old partnership with Ock in your face."

He tried to move on from his lonely childhood and discouraging adolescents. He only wanted what was best for his sons. Yet so much needed to be fixed. Wistfully, he closed his eyes. "I know we don't have secrets between us. But with everything that _has_ happened to us… I don't want it to be where the only person I can trust is my brother."

Between Spider-man, The Goblin, symbiotes, family issues, and broken relationships, the two best friends still had each other. They had deepened their bond. They viewed each other as brothers.

Norman was aware of the close connection between them. He knew how much one meant to the other. He knew the intelligent brunet was all Harry could rely on when he was out as that horrific green monster. He never wanted his son to reject him.

Harry gazed at the carpet. He thought about his new hired. He began to wonder if he could depend on her. "I know you didn't want Normie or Stanley getting attach to her…. Even if… Emma… She's only been here less than a month. I could always let her go. She doesn't know what it means to be an Osborn."

Norman kept his mouth shut as Harry continued, "She could report what she saw. Or what she _thinks_ she saw."

He began to panic. "They'll be Child Services here to investigate! I could lose Stanley! I won't get to see Normie again!"

His breathing turned noticeable. His heart pounded in his chest. His own hands were shaking. He disregarded what Peter assured. Everything was part of the Osborn Curse: All Osborns were born into tragedy, to have all loved ones taken away, to have everything they ever built ripped apart, to be forever alone.

Norman observed the habit. He didn't know what the critical information could do to his son. He was already aware of the great stress stacking over Harry—his first divorce, his crumbled second relationship, his traversing company, and his sons' well-being. Last thing he wanted to happen was for him to undergo a mental breakdown and reside at Ravencroft.

Marching over, he placed his hands firmly on his boy's shoulder. The two pairs of blue eyes met.

"Harry, I won't let that happen," the older father promised. "The Osborn family is a proud one that won't decay under pressure or take any threat. Between you and me, we are a united family. We will do what we can."

The auburn stared at the only parent he knew. He spotted the sincerity. He heard the bold guarantee. He calmed down.

Norman realized his mistake. He wanted to protect his grandchildren. He couldn't allow anyone to grow attached to someone who betrayed him and left him heartbroken. Yet his hasty actions alerted his son in ways he never intended to. Releasing his hands, he said, "I won't tell you what I found. I won't force you to look at the file. This will be your decision. I only want you to make the best choice for you and your sons."

Harry stared at him. The moon's glow outlined the older Osborn. He heard the plural. He understood the knowledge could affect little Normie as well. Despite all the discord, the Osborn patriarch did genuinely care for his grandsons.

Norman reinstated his duties as a grandparent. He headed towards the door. "I'll get Stanley from Peter so he can be on his way."

The door closed behind him.

The young Osborn was left in solitude. This was different from before. He wasn't alone like before. He had a family with two loving sons. He had his network with his buddies. His father was still by his side.

His eyes came to the file. Plenty weighed on his shoulders. He always respected his father. Norman gave useful advice—both for Oscorp and raising kids. On the other hand, hiring the woman was his decision. Reading the information could back track his own efforts. He replayed his own arguments. Everything he did was for his sons. They were Osborns. Which meant they carried the same burden.

Harry always dreaded the Osborn Curse. He feared that the same heritage affected his sons. If he knew more information about Emma, he could prevent his sons being torn away from him. His hand hovered over the tabbed folder.

He clenched a fist. He shook his head. He couldn't permit the same paranoia that consumed his father and his own grandfather to consume him. Perhaps Norman did have a reason to look in to the nanny. But that didn't mean Harry needed to follow through. He didn't need anyone's permission for his accomplishments. He hated the secret keeping. He was sick of everyone doubting him.

Anger erupting, he tossed the folder. Crisp, white pages spilled out. They fluttered. Yet his unsound mind hung over him.

Blue eyes darted too quickly between the papers and the crib to see beyond the ink.

 **End _The Osborn Curse_**

 **Author's Notes:** All that's left to do is wait and see what Marvel has plans for the Osborns.

The Osborn Curse, mentioned in _Amazing Spider-Man #588_ , 2009.

Parker Industries, see _Superior Spider-Man #20_ , 2013. For last appearance, see _Amazing Spider-Man Vol. 4_ _#31_ , 2017. For brief appearance in the USM cartoon, see S3E22 "Nightmare on Christmas".

Uncle Ben Foundation, see _Amazing Spider-Man Vol. 1_ _#1_ , 2015. For last appearance, see _Amazing Spider-Man #795_ , 2018.

Ravencroft Institution for the Criminally Insane, see _Spider-Man Unlimited #1_ , 1993. For Harry's imprisonment, see _Spectacular Spider-Man #190_ , 1992.


	16. Symbiote Side Mission

**Author's notes:** I was watching "The Symbiote Saga" with my younger sister, who has seen only a handful of USM episodes (and Spidey-related media). I pointed out how this USM cartoon only featured characters that matter to the immediate storyline and questioned what happened to Norman. She imagined that Norman could've tried to get a backup generator going after the initial Carnage outbreak and got trapped in the generator room. Since we'll never know, here's a fanfic with an idea. Enjoy!

 **Summary:** Set during "The Symbiote Saga". A battle between a Carnage father and his Anti-Venom son. With Spider-man trying to mediate.

 _ **Symbiote Side Mission**_

"Uh, oh. Uh, oh. Not good," Spider-man muttered to himself. "Definitely not good."

Anti-Venom was an unstoppable force. It cured any citizen of New York City infected with the Carnage symbiote in an instant. A quick tap of a palm to chest was all that was needed for some. Its primary target was Venom. However, its prey was no ordinary victim. Agent Venom was following orders to guide the run alongside other heroes. Anti-Venom eagerly sprinted, discounting the cracked sidewalks and asphalt.

The idea was to get it to pursue the black symbiote while also leading it to the heart of the chaotic Carnage infestation. The peak of the building where HYDRA was working housed Carnage's nest. The Carnage-covered people sought to destroy Anti-Venom because Anti-Venom could destroy them. Spider-man was sure of his plan. He only doubted when Anti-Venom fell through a gaping hole. The area was near Oscorp.

"Blast it!" Spider-man cried.

No one else noted the missing attacker. The wall-crawler needed to return Anti-Venom back to the chase. He dropped himself down the same hole. The space contained spotty lighting. He spotted the debris from the collapsed and damaged structure. Dry wall crumbled while wires dangled above.

"C'mon, Harr, where are you?" he asked himself. He assessed the area as he stealthily moved about. The heroes needed to rescue the city. The one under the red mask also wanted to save his best friend.

Spider-man came to an open space between rubble. His eyes spotted something white and tall.

"All this disease," Anti-Venom grumbled. "It must be purified!"

It was searching for its target. Agent Venom had fallen off its radar. It seemed to be mad. Mad at all the roaming symbiotes. Mad with its power in cleansing them.

The web-spinner couldn't loose track of the white symbiote. There was a mission to complete. He approached with caution.

"So, uh, Anti-Venom," he casually called.

His white eyes met with the flaming orange. A shiver rushed down his spine. Anti-Venom showed no interest in fighting him. But he still needed to watch himself.

"How's about we get you back to that icky home of Carnages, huh?" he asked. "You can relax and watch some TV while I keep those annoying Carnage-covered citizens away?"

Anti-Venom rejected his proposal. It screeched, "Must find Patient Zero!"

Using its powerful legs, it leaped for the web-slinger. It extended its claws to rip apart the red and blue fabric.

"Hey, now!" Spider-man yelled. He managed to dodge the rushed attack. "No need to be this hostile!"

At full force, Anti-Venom charged towards the web-head. The teen hero leaped, leaving the white symbiote to crash into a wall. The remains of the building shook while chips from the ceiling dropped.

Red boots landed on the ground. So far, the detour was between Spider-man and Anti-Venom. They were safe from any Carnages searching for it. As white claws once again aimed to slash the web-spinner, Spider-man quickly skirted.

"To find Patient Zero, we need to stop fighting," he reminded. He then asked, "Why do those Carnage people wanna go after you, anyway? Do you owe them money?"

Anti-Venom was prepared to attack but stopped. It stood in place. Silently, its burning orange eyes stared forward. It seemed fascinated with one particular spot.

The hero turned surprised. He ceased his sporadic movements. He gazed in the same direction but was unable to see past the darkness. "New game? You know playing I Spy doesn't go well in the dark."

Out from the shadows came a rather tall Carnage.

"Is that?!" Spider-man's eyes widened as he gasped. "Norman Osborn?!"

The towering Carnage laughed manically. Such a horrid howl was eerie to hear. It was similar to a certain green villain Spider-man had already faced.

Questions arose in the teen hero. No doubt the battle between himself and Anti-Venom caught the attention of any nearby Caranges. Symbiotes could also sense the presence of other symbiotes.

As his emotions ran wild, all Spider-man could shout was, "Where were you?!"

Unknown to the hero, the father was present with his son lost in a coma. Once the Carnage outbreak occurred, the power had ceased throughout the city. His son, relying on life support, was in danger. He sought to activate the company's backup generator. When the power remained off, he panicked. He darted towards the backup generator room. He was successful in putting the electricity back on. But something was wrong with the mechanics. He was stuck in the room. His only exit came when he succumb to the power of Carnage.

The red symbiote maintained its demented demeanor. Sharp teeth formed its deranged smile. It set its erratic eyes on the white creature. It didn't matter who was the host of what. All the tall Carnage could do was think about its calling. It was the duty of all Carnages—eliminate Anti-Venom.

Inhaling deeply, Carnage shouted, "Destroy the purifier!"

Its deep voice echoed. It rushed towards Anti-Venom.

Spider-man gasped. He couldn't allow either one to harm the other. Running, he set himself in front of Anti-Venom. He pleaded to the tall Carnage, "No, wait! That's your son—"

A red hand swatted the wall-crawler aside.

He rolled across the dusty ground. His head spun. "However this happened… Good thing Norman isn't fused while being a Goblin! That'd open up a different can of worms. And I am _not_ looking to be a fisherman at the moment."

Through his blurred vision, he watched as red claws battled against white ones.

"Must purify!" Anti-Venom charged towards the tall creature.

Carnage laughed wildly. He easily evaded the white symbiote's cleansing touch.

Spider-man frantically watched as the father and son, albeit taken over by symbiotes, were going at each other. He needed to stop the feud. Coming to his feet, he raced towards the controlled Osborns. He shot his webs to form a barrier between the two.

Both the white and red symbiotes halted their movements. They spotted the other past the spread webs. Anti-Venom tried to claw himself through the thick blockade. Carnage laughed at the feeble attempt. He raised his own hand.

Spider-man tried to gain their attention. He shot his web to hold back the red symbiote's arm. Carnage glared at him.

As he held the reign, the wall-crawler implored, "Norman! Is there a way for you to fight this?! I know it's not a Goblin, but you promised your son that you wouldn't go down this path again!"

Carnage dismissed the web-head's words. He slashed apart the webs holding him back. Both Carnage and Anti-Venom bustled to the other side where they could face each other once more.

The web-slinger decided another approach. He tried to cut off Anti-Venom from its path. "Harry! You don't wanna fight your dad, do you?!"

"Must scour this whole mess!" was his given reply. The host showed no signs of being conscious. Anti-Venom was fully in charge.

Spider-man's pleading on both sides seemed hopeless. He tried to keep focus on the current objective. Yet it seemed Anti-Venom was only interested in its present target. Despite the dour situation, the web-slinger tried to do what he could. "I'm not gonna let you two continue fighting! Not when things were just getting better between you two!"

He hustled towards Anti-Venom. He jumped and aimed a kick. As his red boot was about to imprint on the white symbiote, his attacked was stopped. Anti-Venom caught Spider-man's foot.

"Uh, I don't suppose you plan on tickling me—" Spider-man's comment was interrupted with a yelp. He was flung towards Carnage. "What is with both Osborns using me as bait?!"

The red symbiote couldn't move in time. The masked ruffian crashed into it. The two landed far across from Anti-Venom. Spider-man fought against his dizziness. He heard footsteps pounding towards him. He shot a web to lift himself up. He moved himself off of Carnage. He barely caught the white symbiote rushing to the red one.

"No!" Spider-man cried.

Anti-Venom seized Carnage. It firmly held the other symbiote in place. The destructive symbiote was now powerless. The red slime began to burn away. Starting with the man's lower limbs, his usual business suit slowly surfaced. A strange pleasure came for Anti-Venom. It was designed to burn out symbiotes. It was accomplishing that task effortlessly. Before he could do anymore, something else caught its attention.

"Patient Zero!" it exclaimed. It had to eliminate Venom. The black symbiote was the cause of all the disease spreading like currency.

It immediately dropped its victim and bolted out. It didn't see who was underneath.

"Norman!" Spider-man cried. He sped and leaped. He managed to catch the fully exposed businessman before the older Osborn could hit the ground. "Norman, you OK? Can you hear me?"

The man didn't open his eyes. He only groaned.

"He's unconscious," the hero resolved. "Just like everyone else after coming in contact with Carnage then Anti-Venom."

He noted the white creature had vanished. He muttered, "I gotta return to Agent Venom and the rest of my team. But I can't leave my best friend's dad in danger. This whole area could collapse on him. I gotta move him to safe location."

Pulling the man's limb arm around his neck, Spider-man lifted himself up. His spider-strength easily handled the weight of a full grown man on his back. He shot a web. He swung himself up while carefully holding the older Osborn. The two made it to the cleared air.

Because Anti-Venom was nowhere to be found, the area was peaceful. Citizens cleansed of their Carnage curse were still lying on the ground, untouched. Spider-man located an empty bench. He hopped over. Gently, he placed down his father's best friend.

"Don't worry, Norman. I'll get your son back. I won't let anything happen to Harry."

He shot his web and began his way out.

He intended to keep his promise.

 **End _Symbiote_ _Side Mission_**


	17. Renewing Trust

**Author's notes:** I figured I should post something about their heroic identities. Enjoy!

 **Summary:** **[** Post series] Iron Patriot tests Patrioteer's skills to see if Patrioteer should return to the Academy.

 _ **Renewing Trust**_

Oscorp was no more. What was once a prominent structure in a land of grand towers was now crushed. What had once offered one of the leading pathways of science and technology was now a pile of rubble.

Iron Patriot and Patrioteer stared at the fallen debris. Much more was destroyed beyond the computers, laboratories, and machines. Oscorp also served as the home for the Osborn family. Patrioteer shifted his crestfallen gaze towards Iron Patriot. He was aware of the extensive labor his father placed into his re-claimed empire. He sought to say something comforting.

Spider-man came swinging in. He flipped and landed alongside the family clad in armor. He spotted them sorrowfully staring at the closed off site. He felt for their loss.

The two teen heroes silently greeted each other. Spider-man had revised his powers. Patrioteer was rescued from that shrinking dome. All schemes were created by the same foe: Doctor Octopus. Fortunately, no employees or any other residences were harmed in the fall of Oscorp. There was just the current misfortune to ride out.

"So what do you plan to do about… all this?" Spider-man's red glove trotted out a circular motion to refer to the collapsed building.

"It can be rebuilt," Iron Patriot replied. He kept his view on the destruction in front of him. "All of the company's documents and financial records are safely stored. Accessing those blueprints won't be an issue. Oscorp is already on a time schedule for re-construction."

Spider-man hoped the powerful businessman had dropped his revenge seeking against Doc Ock. He nodded. "Looks like having that hero's insurance paid off. Good to see that you aren't letting this fender-bender take control."

Patrioteer noted his father's behavior. The older Osborn only mentioned the corporation, not their home. He believed something deeply bothered him. To be a good son, he tried to assure him. "Not everything was lost. Leave Ock in the hands of Stark. We're still together, a family, right?"

The man in the suit was stone quiet. He became aware of the trouble that took place at S.H.I.E.L.D. Whether sentimental or pragmatic, some belongings were permanently gone. Any property belonging to his deceased wife, for example. A possible inclusions could have been her final gift to her husband. An empire could be reconstructed. A family could not.

Iron Patriot turned towards Patrioteer. "I know you want to return to that Academy."

Spider-man recognized that parental tone of voice.

((Uh oh. Sounds like Patrioteer is getting a humdrum lecture. Doesn't seem to be any different from washing behind your ears, eating vegetables, and crossing the street after looking both ways.))

The teen in the armor appeared to feel the same. He listened anyway.

Keeping his stance straight, Iron Patriot announced, "There's one matter to settle before you can go back. I want you to attack me."

"What?!" Patrioteer gasped.

"Yeah!" Spider-man added. The white slits in his mask expanded. "What?! Did a piece of dry wall bonk you on your head?!"

"I need to test your skills," Iron Patriot explained. "I want to see your ability in controlling the armor."

The teen disbelieved the idea. He shook his head. "Dad, I'm not gonna fight you! That's crazy!"

Sternly, Iron Patriot directed, "It's either you face me, or you won't return to the Academy."

Spider-man grasped what the older Osborn was planning. "Does it really need to be this way? You shouldn't let what Ock did change your mind about Patrioteer. You've already seen what he can do."

"Yes," Iron Patriot agreed. "And the same man who infused my son with the Anti-Venom symbiote also trapped him in a shrinking dome. These are the challenges Patrioteer will face if he wants to pursue being a hero."

He raised his hand and tried to blast the web-head.

Spider-man managed to dodge the abrupt attack. "What was _that_ for?!"

"No aid from the sidelines," Iron Patriot conditioned. "Patrioteer must learn to do this on his own if he wants this path."

"And if not, will it be back to Midtown High?"

"Not a chance if S.H.I.E.L.D. has hidden operations there, too. I'll find somewhere else for him to study. Perhaps Midtown Academy or Standard High."

The two young adults understood the terms.

The wall-crawler looked towards his buddy. Spider-man would lose a valuable ally. Peter would lose his best friend.

The armored teen stared ahead. Patrioteer would be removed from his teammates. Harry would be removed from his companions.

"Don't hold back," Iron Patriot commanded. "I want to see what you've got."

Range of emotions flushed down Patrioteer. He was silent. His arms remained at his sides. He refused to make any movements.

"Fine," Iron Patriot grumbled. "Then it looks like I'll need to be the one to start this off."

Lifting his hand, he began blasting his own son.

The teen shuffled away from the raids. Such explosions smashed the debris of Oscorp. With the unceasing strikes, he was aware how serious and devoted Iron Patriot was to his idea. He used to his repulsion boosts and piloted himself in the opposite direction.

Iron Patriot pursued his son. He chased him through a nearby construction site. He shadowed every movement as Patrioteer tried to fly between steel beams. Once they were out of the unfinished structure and entered the vast blue sky, the father began shooting the teen. Patrioteer managed to control himself as he avoided each skirmish. Only one scraped against his armor.

Spider-man uneasily watched. "Norman shouldn't battle his son no matter his intention. I can't allow the patched up bond between my best friend and his only parent fall apart. I gotta do something to help."

Despite his given warning shot, he followed.

"Isn't there some other way Patrioteer could do this?" he asked. "Stop a bank robbery? Run through an obstacle course? Sell the most cookies for a fund raiser?"

"This entire test is necessary," Iron Patriot contended. "I must know his current levels—attacks, strategies, defense. I must make sure he'll be safe."

"Safe?" Spider-man repeated. "By blasting him sky high?!"

Patrioteer heard his father. He flew down towards the streets. He entered an industrial-sized manhole. Without hesitation, Iron Patriot infiltrated the same hole.

Spider-man tried to keep up. His method of transportation was no match against repulsor boosts. He stopped at the opening. Looking ahead, he spotted yards down of the pair zipping up. He raced and shot his webs. He pondered aloud, "Patrioteer can't outrun his dad forever. I don't know if retaliating against Norman is the answer. But does Harry have a plan? Maybe I can at least slow down Iron Patriot."

He soared above and clung to a building, keeping an eye for a passing Iron Patriot. When the time was right, he jumped down. He landed on the man's metal back. "Going straight for the physical portion for the exam? What about the essay writing? Or giving him an extra credit opportunity? I've been told that I'm an excellent tutor."

The older Osborn sensed the web-slinger's presence. "I understand you're only looking to assist your best friend. But as his father, I must examine his skills on his own."

He shot himself straight up. He knew his intruder couldn't hold on forever. As he looped himself around, he successfully knocked him off.

Spider-man yelped. He saw where he was falling. Shooting a web against a staircase exit, he safely rolled on an open roof. He watched once more as Iron Patriot tailed the younger Osborn.

Patrioteer spotted the web-spinner giving a hand. After finding out his best friend's dual lifestyle, he began to understand all the difficulty the web-head underwent. Alone. Yet the masked ruffian never stopped helping—not for symbiotes, not for The Goblin, and not for Doctor Octopus. He realized he shouldn't run. He had to stand by his own beliefs. Even if he was standing against his father.

He cut short his drifting. He was now hovering in place.

Iron Patriot halted as well. He kept his offense up. He eyed for any quick movement.

"I'm not gonna fight you," Patrioteer announced.

"Do you not wish to return to the Academy?" Iron Patriot asked.

The teen lowered himself to the ground. "It's not about wanting to go back. It's about us. I can't fight you because… I'm so sick of fighting you."

Iron Patriot refrained any further action. "What?"

Spider-man fastened himself to a nearby wall. He believed this was the true battle. He stayed in place and listened as well.

Patrioteer's yellow visor rose. Blue eyes holding heartache stared at the man in the suit. "We always spent our time fighting. You were unhappy with my grades in school. I was unhappy with how much time you were spending at work. We never got into anything physical. But our arguments were loud. If we had neighbors, I'm sure they would've heard us."

He sighed. "We managed to overcome so much. I just don't want us to be about fighting."

Spider-man grew impressed and moved by what his friend had disclosed.

Iron Patriot glided downwards. He turned quiet.

The web-head decided to step in. He hopped down and joined the Osborns. He faced Iron Patriot. "You said you wanted to make sure Patrioteer's safe. Yes, bad guys are always gonna be invading S.H.I.E.L.D. and trying to knock our heads off. But Patrioteer has grown since he first put on the suit. I say he's showing courage in that he wasn't impede by what happened. Don't you trust him?"

Iron Patriot looked between Patrioteer and Spider-man. He examined their speeches. When he made his conclusion, he raised his visor.

"You both are correct," Norman agreed. "I shouldn't allow Octavious or any other villain to control us. I should place my trust in my son and his teachers."

Spider-man believed his best friend won his case. He became ecstatic. "That's excellent to hear, Osborn."

"I should also be teaching my son," Norman added. "How to properly use his weaponry so that should anything like this be repeated he'll know what to do."

"At least he'll have residency at the Academy."

"Yes, that should do. As for me, I'll check myself into a nearby hotel and keep an eye on construction. Oscorp won't stay in the dust forever."

"Meanwhile, you want Damage Control to give you a hand with the clean up?"

Harry was relieved that his only parent listened. He looked towards his best friend. He was grateful for his support. He mulled over his words. Anytime he had placed on the armor, he had assistance from either Spider-man or his father.

Norman observed boy's behavior. He wanted to check in on his well-being. He asked, "Son, with everything that had happened, are you ready to return to the Academy?"

"Yes, but I do have a condition," Harry announced.

The other two focused on the younger Osborn.

"I don't want any special treatment just because I'm an Osborn," Harry continued. "I want to be treated like all the other students. I know what had happened to me—Venom and Anti-Venom and being trapped in that dome. It does bother me."

He looked up with determination in his eyes. "So I want to learn all I can. I want to use Patrioteer to prove myself… to me…"

Spider-man understood his pal's goal. He placed a supporting hand on his buddy's shoulder. "You won't be alone on that journey."

Harry smiled. "I know I'll have an excellent tutor."

Norman nodded. He was proud of his son for holding an ambition. His blue eyes studied Patrioteer's armor. He noted the minimum damaged caused by their battle. "There are some things we should take care of before you go back. I need to give the armor some tune ups."

Looking at his son, he smiled, "Since this is your suit, it'll be something we can do together."

The auburn teen smiled back.

Spider-man was glad to see the relationship between family members remained strong. There was trust among them.

"Not exactly the coveted father-son fishing trip. But it'll do."

 **End** _**Renewing Trust**_


	18. Men and Kings

**Warning: Story contains subject of abuse.**

 **Author's notes:** Slight inspiration from _The Superior Spider-Man Team Up #11_ , 2014, in where Norman/Green Goblin trains with Otto/Doc Ock to take down Spider-Man. Their partnership goes about as well as you think. Enjoy!

 **Summary:** Outside destroying their mutual enemy, even villains find common ground among each other.

 _ **M**_ _ **en and Kings**_

"Wow, Dad!" Harry praised. "You beat the preset record!"

Peter cheered as well, "Way to go, Mister Osborn!"

The two teens resided in the Osborn penthouse. In front of them was a screen almost as large as the wall that carried it. They were enjoying a night in when a third player arrived. They knew of the older Osborn's enjoyment of games with an even greater commitment to winning.

Holding the controller, Norman smiled. He was proud of his victory. "See, Harry? This is where a cleared, determined mind can achieve."

The excited atmosphere changed when the older Osborn stood up.

Harry spotted the pattern. After Norman checked in on him—for times when he bothered to—he would deliver a lecture and then depart. He came to his feet as well. "Dad? Where are you going?"

"I'm heading back to the lab. I have some business to take care of."

The man left the room without looking back.

Disappointed, Harry closed his eyes and sighed. He disliked his father's preachments. Especially since his only parent was solely concerned with his grades. Never about his personal life or interests. But he wouldn't mind the admonishing words and materialistic gifts so much if his dad stayed a bit longer.

Peter turned towards Harry and noticed the sorrow.

((In the time I've got to know the Osborns, I've often seen Norman's sudden departures from his son. I get the work upon work the owner of an _entire empire_ needs to place in. Unfortunately, such dedication doesn't lessen the pain for my best bud.))

He placed a comforting hand on the young heir's shoulder.

* * *

A door to an underground lab opened. Large, bright screens were mounted on the walls. Clear keyboards rested right underneath. The monitors displayed complex math problems and innovative designs. Their purpose, however, were far from the side of justice and improving humanity.

Something within the darkness moved. The only hint to its form was the lights from the screens. Four mechanical limbs sprouted from his back. Unkempt greasy hair swayed past his chin. A set of round glasses rested on his face.

"If it isn't my employer Norman Osborn," a deep, ominous voice greeted. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Norman ignored the cold welcoming. His hands remained in his pockets as he held his head high. "I thought I'd come to see how things are progressing."

He walked closer. His footsteps echoed behind him. He fixed his gaze on the many monitors.

One screen played Spider-man. The display was on a loop of his latest mission. He dodged. He attacked. He used his webbing. It was important to observe his moves and find a pattern. It was also a chance to spot any weak points. The hero dressed in red and blue always made time to save the citizens.

"All has been going according to plan," the man with the mechanical limbs answered. He expected to hear an insult or a harangue. He then expected to hear his cruel employer leave. However, Norman stayed.

The businessman's eyes caught sight of something. On a table was a board. The board contained a grid of black and white squares. On top were matching black and white pieces. The sixteen pieces appeared to be made of fine craftsmanship. Perhaps it was a gift given long ago. Both ends of the grid kept their sides.

"I see you have this chess board set up," Norman remarked.

The game of chess was a game of intellect. A game of strategy. It is an old hobby with ancient roots played around the globe.

"A game keeps my mind sharp," Octavious explained. It also offered a break from his work, an escape from his subjective reality. With the way his old lab partner controlled his life, he half-expected to be chided like a child for keeping around a momento. Of course, being controlled by another person wasn't new to him.

Norman, however, didn't change his demeanor. He appeared like he was thinking. He then remarked aloud, "I don't think we've played a match since the accident."

Octavious wanted to raise an eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your company?" he asked. "Or your son?"

"Everything is running on time," Norman coolly replied. They had been watching the young web-head ever since his debut. The only noticeable difference was his new alliance with S.H.I.E.L.D. and a team. They made adjustments but sustained their goal. He then said, "And Harry has his good friend around."

Unknown to him, the brunet had given a lame excuse to so he could return to S.H.I.E.L.D. for a briefing, leaving the auburn teen alone.

"Besides," Norman added. "As you said, the game keeps the mind sharp."

He took a seat.

Octavious spotted the man's eyes on him. The other man invited him. He could see his employer would not move. Once Norman Osborn established his mind, he went for his goal. No doubt he was already planning, calculating. There was no escaping.

"Very well," the man with the mechanical limbs accepted. He placed himself on the opposite end. He figured he could gain a few laughs should he best his boss over a grid board. He knew how much Norman hated losing.

The two players were ready. Pieces began to move. Each man was already premeditating his strategy. For a while the only sound was the pieces being lifted and set down. One head was gripped with human fingers, and the other head was gripped by metal claws.

Both intelligent men grasped the object of the game. They rarely made mistakes. Pawns were exchanged for steps towards victory. Each one had faced others. This time around, they were playing against an equal partner. Both men were men of science. They had studied extensively the scientific fields—biology, chemistry, even engineering. Yet despite their bright minds, they played differently, gaining towards their goal differently. Octavious was one who refused to make a step until he was one hundred percent certain of his results. Though Norman was a scientist as well, he was also a businessman. He knew when he needed to take risks. What was an uncertainty to one was an opportunity for the other.

Norman moved his eyes towards his queen. The queen was a strange piece. It was the most powerful on the board. And some versions of the game had the queen disregarded entirely. The king needed a queen to survive.

Octavious observed his opponent.

The businessman sensed eyes on him. He knew some of his actions caused his employees to become quizzical. He had reasons to follow his quaint process.

"Life can't all be numbers," Norman announced.

Octavious raised his head.

The older Osborn continued, "Sometimes what comes best are the surprises. Of course, a rose will only smell sweeter after hours of effort placed into hard work."

"What idea are you talking about?" the other man asked. He felt himself growing inflamed. He refused to allow the one he resented to psyche him out.

"I was gifted that experience by my wife. I was happily married to a wonderful woman. Emily Osborn née Lyman. We were childhood sweethearts. She reminded me to be sporadic from time to time." Norman's genial face darkened. "Even with all our years together, it wasn't enough. She died when Harry was only a year old."

Such a pain never left his heart.

The man with the mechanical limbs glanced at the board. He understood a bit more of his opponent's less than methodical strategy. Perhaps aside from an understanding and appreciation of science, they shared something else. Talking did the strangest things to people.

"I was briefly engaged," Octavious announced.

"Were you now?" Norman questioned. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Before the accident." The handicapped man waved around a tentacle to encase his timeline. "Mary Alice Anders. She was brilliant."

An image clicked inside Norman's mind. "Yes, I believe I met her once or twice at the lab. So what happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

Octavious was silent. If there was ever something to keep away from his confiner, he had to play it right. This wasn't one of them. "My mother disproved of my relationship. I was a fool for ever having to listen to her."

He openly displayed his hatred: "Mary Lavina-Octavious… That was my mother's name. She had encouraged me to become a scientist. She wanted more for me, to be something that her husband wasn't. Torbert Octavious was my father. He was a construction worker. Not the owner of the company. Not even the boss. He only followed orders. Like a lowly sheep to a slaughter house. When he died from a construction accident, I was all she had left. She wanted me to be loyal only to her. She was less than pleased when I finally introduced Mary Alice to her. She forced me to break off the relationship. I complied. I was foolhardy for doing so."

Staring at this particular board reminded him of who he surrendered over. He recalled what he gave up. "I became enraged when I found out that my mother had met someone for herself. When I called her out on her hypocrisy, she suffered and died from a heart attack. Freed at that time, I was unable to reconnect with my love. However, she had already left. I never saw Mary Alice again."

He thought about searching for her—be honest and open with his injudicious choices. He longed for her forgiveness. His hope perished after his accident.

Norman kept his frosty gaze on the board.

"Mothers can be just as foolish," he coldly replied.

He did have his own troubles. He never felt sorry for his own mother. She accepted the strikes when Ambrose went on his intoxicated rampage. He saw first-hand of a husband assaulting his wife. Mrs. Osborn did all she could to safeguard Norman. However, he didn't see a woman protecting her only child. He believed she deserved the abuse as consequence for being married to a disgraced man.

Octavious noted the disgusted tone. He would deny his enemy to use his past against him. He recalled what Norman had revealed to him. "And how would Emily have been as a mother?"

Returning to the present, Norman answered, "Harry and I have had our… differences. But I'm sure that Emily, rest her soul, would have loved him just as well."

"I've come to notice through our time working together that you hate dotards. If your wife wanted to make you happy, would she then have hold different parenting styles?"

Norman looked at his opponent. He scowled. "What are you implying, Octavious? That Emily would have coddled Harry? Raised him to be as strong as a bowl of mush?"

"Only if she wanted to ensure that the next generation evolved from its predecessor." Octavious smirked. Maybe he only wanted to agitate the one who had imprisoned him. It was one of the few pleasures he had. He did have to be careful.

"To evolve also means keeping alive what works," Norman corrected.

Both men continued their part in protecting their king. The king was the most important piece. For if the king is captured, then the other player wins. Men design themselves to be like kings. Some are benevolent. Some are ruthless. And some men never grow past being a pawn.

Octavious wondered if he could turn the tables. He decided to insert another insult. "Fathers are more expendable. Movies and TV have shown it. They are not that far off for some."

Norman had trouble with his father, Ambrose Osborn. Octavious had trouble with his father, Torbert Octavious. The former was an incompetent businessman who blamed everyone else for his terrible management. The latter was a mere construction crew member who never appreciated the intellectual gift his son had. Both had felt the unending rage.

" _Weak_ men are expendable," Norman reclaimed. "A man who disappears without any mark is no man at all."

"Such stalk lessons. Do you plan on passing these ideas down?"

"I have given my son plenty outside life lectures," Norman defended. "Just last week, I bought him baseball season passes for him and his friends. And the week before that, I extended his bedtime by one hour so that he can enjoy his new gaming station I bought him. He'll only maintain that freedom so long as his grades don't slip. Don't want to spoil him too much."

These would keep Harry occupy. It was also an opportunity to show that the Osborns had wealth. It was to show others that the teen had a good father, a father who provided. That was something Norman was denied while growing up.

"By society standards, that is an achievement," Octavious remarked.

"What do you mean?" Norman asked.

"It seems this is a part of the human dance that I'm unable to participate in. You managed to produce an offspring, someone to carry on the Osborn genes. Your linage should be proud."

Norman detected the sarcasm that fell on the last line. "I accepted my role as a father from the moment Emily told me she was pregnant. After she fell ill, I promised to protect my son. I may have lost my wife, but I gained a new love."

"The line has been expanded. Will that include inspecting potential in-laws?"

Norman pondered the questioned. He released a boisterous laugh, like he heard a joke. "Harry is far _too young_ for that. He needs to keep his focus on his studies."

"You've set an example."

"For him and his best friend. The poor Parker fellow lost his parents and then his uncle." He knew Peter had a brilliant mind and a bright future. He wanted his son to take the reigns when he will be gone. Norman insisted on taking that role. "They just need the proper motivation to move on in the world."

Octiavious ignored the backstory but listened to the meaning. He couldn't deny what his opponent had declared. "It is the proper motivation that makes a man stay a pawn or move onwards to become a king."

"Indeed. All men should strive to be kings. Nothing is more valuable than that."

The two continued to play.

Perhaps, if they hadn't permitted their ego to get the better of them, if they hadn't had something against Spider-man… If they didn't allow their pasts to dictate them but instead find common ground… Perhaps in another dimension, the two could have been friends.

 **End** _**M**_ _ **en and Kings**_

Emily Osborn-Lyman, for initial appearance in a photo, see _Spectacular Spider-Man #180_ , 1991 ("The Child Within: Part 3 of 6"). For full appearance, see _Spider-Man:_ _Revenge of_ _t_ _he Green Goblin #1_ , 2000.

Mary Alice Anders/Burke, see _Spider-Man Unlimited #3_ , 1993.

Mary Octavious-Lavina, see _Spider-Man Unlimited #3_ , 1993.

Torbert Theadore Octavious, see _Spider-Man Unlimited #3_ , 1993.

Amberson "Ambrose" Osborn, see _The Spectacular Spider-Man Annual #14_ , 1994.

Mrs. Osborn (left unnamed), see _The Spectacular Spider-Man Annual #14_ , 1994.


	19. Mischance

Microfiction: a story written in 50 words or less.

 **Summary:** Post "Venomous". A son's concern for his father's opinion.

 _ **Mischance**_

Peter smiled seeing Harry back home after that symbiote accident.

Harry saw Norman leaving. He needed to ask him something. "Are you disappointed I couldn't handle Venom?"

Norman paused before replying, "You've had a long night. You should go to bed early."

He left.

Realizing the avoided answer, Harry sighed.

 **End** _**Mischance**_


	20. Lab Partners

**Author's Notes:** A bit of a mix between the original _Amazing_ comics, the _Spectacular_ comics, and the _Ultimate_ reboot comics with a dash of my own imagination. For the Hobgoblin villain selected here, I'll leave it up to your interpretation of who it is. Enjoy!

 **Summary:** After an unsuccessful battle against a new Hobgoblin, Peter and Harry learn a deeper connection between the Parkers and the Osborns before they were even born.

 _ **Lab Partners**_

"We're arriving closer to his position!" Iron Patriot shouted. He was zipping through the air while dodging looming skyscrapers. Alongside him were Patrioteer and Spider-man.

The wall-crawler was shooting his webs. He bounced off walls and flag polls to pump his momentum. Weaving through the lively city, he merrily sang to himself. "There's the church. There's the steeple. Open it up, and there's the bad guy!"

The trio watched as someone they were pursuing infiltrated a dilapidated place of worship. They followed. Entering through a hole, they landed inside. The area was dark. Only sunlight emitting past the broken roof penetrated.

Spider-man looked around. Beyond the stained glass windows, he spotted a hole in the ground where the criminal could've dropped below. He knew what lay under.

((Remember back when Norman was The Goblin? And he tried to make me a Goblin but somehow I ended up as Carnage? And then Harry became Venom and tried to take down his dad? Well, we're back at that secret hideout. Looks like someone got access to the Goblin serum and is looking high and low for Norman's old weapons. I've seen enough cartoons to know the mouse is already packing something fierce.))

"He must already be in the basement," Spider-man surmised. "Most likely ready to arm himself with the standard accessories. I can stay close to the floor, err, _ceiling_ and catch him by surprise. Patrioteer—"

"Will stay close to me," Iron Patriot decided.

The web-head looked at his teammate.

Patrioteer stayed quiet. He reviewed an earlier mission. When he had teamed up with Spider-man and Agent Venom, he had acted too eager in facing off against Doc Ock and HYDRA. He was aware of the devastating consequences. He nodded.

Spider-man accepted that response. "Ready? Break!"

He leaped closer to the hole. His sticky fingers embraced the ceiling as he flipped. Chills swept down his spine as he surveyed his environment. He saw the hexagon flooring still broken. The monitors coating the walls kept their screens smashed. Wires dangled like dead vines in a jungle. He shivered. "This place kept its creep factor up past ten. Too bad Halloween isn't for months."

Iron Patriot dropped down with Patrioteer right beside him. He activated a flashlight. His scanner searched for any forms of life.

No sooner did the wall-crawler descend to the floor that his spider-sense activated.

A pumpkin bomb sailed through the air.

"Watch out!" Spider-man cried.

His teammates detected the danger. They leaped from their spot.

The weapon exploded. The blast was followed by an unholy laughter.

"Arm yourselves!" Iron Patriot directed to the teen heroes.

From the smoke arose someone riding a glider. Burning red eyes glowed against his sickly yellow skin. Pointy ears shaped the scalp with a forehead that went on forever. A vicious smile revealed sharp teeth. He appeared far more unhinged than the original Goblin. His raspy voice chuckled maliciously once more. "Look who decided to visit my humble home!"

"There's our target!" Patrioteer reported.

"Guests should always knock before they enter. How rude!" The enemy shot another pumpkin bomb. But his aim was off, so the heroes easily evaded the attack.

"Way to entertain guests like this!" Spider-man flipped and landed on the wall. "Whoever this chuckle-head is, he's not as powerful as the original Goblin. He's like a… Hobgoblin!"

He watched as the Osborns ducked from an unconstrained glider. He observed how much joy the madman gained in tormenting them. Using his webbings, he formed a ball. He hurled it towards his foe.

The webbed ball smashed into the back of Hobgoblin's head. His heated red eyes were now set on him. Spider-man shot his web and was prepared to take off. A flying razor bat prevented the web-spinner from moving forward. Hobgoblin lunged towards him. He exposed his knife-like claws. He enacted a powerful slash.

A pained shriek filled the air.

"Spider-man!" Patrioteer cried.

The wall-crawler had been injured.

"Nothing to worry about," he grunted. "Same as a cat. Which means its time for this Hobgoblin to get declawed."

Hobgoblin was nimble. He flipped and landed back on his stolen glider. He resumed his sporadic flightpath. Zooming closer to Spider-man, he was close to knocking his head off.

"Whoa!" the masked ruffian yelped. He ducked. "Glider on the loose! And it's amazing that he's able to fly so freely in a basement this size."

Hobgoblin happily rode around on the machine. The ability to wave through the air intoxicated him. "What a thrill this Goblin path is! You were a fool, Osborn, for giving up all this power!"

Iron Patriot clenched a fist. He refused to be labeled as the terrible green beast any longer. "Only a fool believes _this_ is power!"

He tailed the yellow fiend with his boosters. Patrioteer was close behind him.

Spider-man examined his costume. He noticed the tears. "Great, now I need to re-thread this. And it's so hard finding matching colors."

Once he recovered, he followed.

To rid his enemies chasing him, Hobgoblin hurled another pumpkin bomb. This time, he purposefully flung too wide. Rather than hit the man in the armor, he hit a piece of the building.

The support beam cracked. The sound alarmed the young heroes. Looking up, they pinpointed the problem. The structure above them broke apart. Spider-man and Patrioteer acted. The masked ruffian shot his webs. The teen in the iron suit used his hand repulsors to melt any metal. Their teamwork kept the debris from covering Iron Patriot.

"Nice work, pal," Spider-man complimented.

"Just following S.H.I.E.L.D.'s training," Patrioteer cheerfully replied. He then rejoined himself to Iron Patriot's side. The older Osborn raised his arm to protect the younger one.

Hobgoblin swerved around. He noted how protective Iron Patriot acted towards Patrioteer. The younger one was like a yo-yo. He needed to sever the string. Snatching a piece of debris, he tossed it against the older Osborn.

Iron Patriot raised up both hands. Effortlessly, he caught it. "Nice try! It's gonna take more than that to defeat me!"

"Can't juggle more than you can handle, Osborn!" Hobgoblin teased. He zipped past the older man. He went straight for the younger teen.

Claws slashed Patrioteer. A shout ensued.

The parent in the metal suit saw the assault. He grew furious. He tossed aside the debris and controlled his boosters. "Stay away from him!"

His metal fists bashed right into Hobgoblin's chest. The attack sent the yellow monster flying. He then turned back to Patrioteer. "Are you alright?"

The young adult scanned his suit. "Yeah, everything's still operating."

Iron Patriot was visibly relieved. "Remember, stay close to me."

The order sounded harsh. But it was coming from a caring place.

Spider-man spotted the enemy regaining his balance. He grew livid as the chaotic laughter rang in his ears. "Hey, Hobbie! Are you done pulling these novice stunts?"

The foe heard the insult. He faced the web-head. "What?!"

"You heard me!" the hero yelled. "Your tricks are less intimidating than a kindergarten's haunted house! You trying to be the next Goblin? Ha! You're nothing but a wannabe!"

Hobgoblin growled at the snub. He had uncovered the formula, weapons, and glider. He wanted The Goblin's name for himself. Yet his character had yet to strike fear like the way his predecessor did. He pondered. "If I ever want to make a name for myself, if I ever wish to evolve, I should eliminate what came before me."

Spider-man saw a rise to the challenge. "I don't like the sound of that."

Hobgoblin chucked his weapon. The pumpkin bomb was knocked off course by a webbed ball. It tossed up. When it exploded, the shockwaves weakened the ceiling. Hobgoblin made his charge. Spider-man tackled the yellow beast. The enemy tumbled off his machine.

Iron Patriot witnessed the explosion. Another piece of ceiling was coming down. It would crush the foe but also Spider-man. He used his own repulsor to fix it. Patrioteer followed suit.

The masked ruffian pinned down his adversary. "You're not making a title for yourself that easy!"

The antagonist struggled beneath. He grunted, "You'll see that this Hobgoblin—as you so kindly labeled me—will bring about his own terrors! More than The Goblin ever could!"

He managed to pull back one leg. He kicked the teen dressed in the blue and red costume. The web-slinger groaned as he swept across the floor. Hobgoblin chortled at his freedom.

"Not so fast!" Iron Patriot bellowed. With his son responding to the rubble, he was able to aid Spider-man. He pounced on top of the villain. "I refuse to allow anyone tampering with the remains of the Goblin formula to get away!"

"You'll see that I'm right, Osborn," Hobgoblin taunted. His smile exposed his sharp teeth. "The only true power is from this Goblin entity! And if you reject that, then take your sunny philosophy to the grave!"

He liberated his arms. He pressed a button on his risk guard. The glider reacted to the call. It was speeding on a straight path.

Spider-man's spider-sense went off. The ride was zooming towards them. He rolled himself out of the way. He elevated himself. "Heads up!"

Iron Patriot turned around. He watched in horror of what was coming towards him.

Patrioteer had remained near the ceiling. He was heading towards the bickering adults to give a hand. He sighted the looming danger. "Dad!"

He whisked himself closer. He shoved his father aside. The glider hit against the armor. With its great force, the machine smashed Patrioteer against the oncoming wall.

"NO!" Iron Patriot shouted.

"Patrioteer!" Spider-man cried.

The teen in the armor gave no response. His body remained in place, motionless.

Iron Patriot removed himself from Hobgoblin. He rushed towards the injured teammate and crushed wall. He scanned the armor. "His suit is offline!"

He lifted his silver visor. His blue eyes exposed his worry. "Harry! Can you hear me? Son!"

Spider-man disbelieved the horrid site. Infuriated, he glared at Hobgoblin. The yellow fiend was scrambling to his feet. The wall-crawler sprang closer to him. In his rage, he batted his enemy. Hobgoblin bemoaned. Each pounding fist felt like a cinder block bashing against him. He was no match for an angered spider. He knew he needed to leave. He delivered his own punch. The hit was powerful. Spider-man fell backwards as the yellow monster shuffled towards a wide exit.

Even without the glider, Hobgoblin made his escape. His maddening cackle echoed against the decaying church walls.

Spider-man, down on his side, watched. He clenched a fist. "Why that no good…."

His enraged thoughts were interrupted by bellows of anguish.

"Harry!" Iron Patriot ripped off Patrioteer's yellow visor. The young adult's eyes remained closed.

The wall-crawler stood up. He jumped closer. He examined his ally. "We need to get him help."

Iron Patriot clenched his teeth. He knew the web-head was right. "We're closer to the hospital than we are the Triskelion."

Spider-man gave no argument. He positioned his hands on the glider while the older Osborn set his hands over the younger one's shoulders. Using his strength built from concern and rage, the wall-crawler ripped away the cursed machine. He tossed it aside like garbage. The unconscious teen in the metal suit fell into his father's arms.

Spider-man and Iron Patriot took Patrioteer to receive treatment.

* * *

The private hospital room was quiet. A father soaked with guilt stood beside a bed. He balled up his fingers and squeezed his fists. The strain from slugging Hobgoblin remained.

"That glider was meant for _me_. It was supposed to crash in to _me_."

His emotional blue eyes focused on his son. The teen was lying in bed. He was asleep. His nostrils held clear tubes that granted him oxygen. A neck-brace prevented his head from swinging. Next to him was a heart monitor.

Seeing his boy in the intensive care unit caused Norman's anguish to upsurge. He had trouble bearing that. Instead, what discharged was more anger. "I should've destroyed those cursed Goblin lairs! Neither of those boys should've been there! I should've done the job on my own! This was my _responsibility_!"

He regretted his time as a Goblin. He believed acting as Iron Patriot would reprimand his misdeeds. Hobgoblin gleefully reminded him of that past sin. He loathed the idea of forever being pulled down by his old identity. Remorse relentlessly clung to him.

A nurse quietly walked into the room. She wore a set of pink scrubs. Underneath her nurse's hat was blond hair kept in a bun. She was the same hospital employee who treated Norman after his run as The Goblin. Now she was fostering his injured son. Her soft blue eyes rested on him. She spotted him brooding.

"Norman," she greeted. Her voice came out with a thick Swedish accent.

The businessman kept his sullen position. By the gentle voice, he knew who came. He whispered, "He's back here… in the hospital… because of me…"

He had been consumed by his greed. That was what permitted the black symbiote to take control of his son. A white one landed that same adolescent in a coma. When he suited up as Iron Patriot, he informed the two teens of his work—to bring in someone who had contact with the Goblin mixture. Spider-man and Patrioteer couldn't refuse the call. He allowed them to come. Now someone who had found the bedeviled Goblin formula had greatly injured Patrioteer with the glider.

The nurse was aware of what admitted the young adult. She knew why he was still alive. She felt the need to sooth the distraught industrialist. "The suit saved him. _Your_ suit saved him."

"From an absolute maniac who's still at large."

Norman was a man of power. He had countless enemies. Many were from his Oscorp empire, business rivals and employees bitter with their position. Hobgoblin had addressed him by his last name. The criminal was aware of who was in the metal suit. Yet it would be difficult to try and identify a single foe. Or if he had teamed up with someone. Questions enveloped him.

"There isn't anymore you can do," she gently insisted.

"I can be here when he wakes up," he countered. He couldn't imagine Harry becoming disheartened to not see his only parent around. He didn't want his son to think he didn't care.

" _Nurse Frederickson,_ " a voice called over the P.A. system. _"You're needed up front, Nurse Frederickson."_

The woman heard her name over the loud speaker. She knew she needed to leave.

"You should get some rest yourself," she advised. "Your son will worry if you aren't taking care of yourself."

He thought about her advice.

"Just give me two more minutes, Kolina," he replied. His tone distant itself from a command. He sounded like he was giving a genuine request. He kept himself in place as the footsteps walked away.

Once alone, he looked back towards the bed. He doubted that such a thin blanket would keep the slumbering patient warm. He removed his jacket. Gently, he placed it over his son.

"I'll be back soon. I promise."

* * *

Night had fallen. Artificial lights swarmed the city. A whole new world emerged. Worse, numerous criminals were coming forth to enact their schemes in a coat of darkness. Hobgoblin would be shrouded.

Spider-man stood on a wide roof. Earlier, he had visited Mount Sinai Medical Center. He received treatment for his wounds. He also fixed his costume. He was prepared to return to the battlefield. To him, his injuries were only scratches. They were nothing compared to what his friend had withstood. Standing by statues of gargoyles, his white eyes scanned the cityscape. He wasn't alone. Agent Venom and Spider-woman arrived.

"How's Patrioteer?" the girl asked. They had already been informed about the unfortunate incident.

"Recovering in the hospital," the leader replied. His tone carried no joy.

"And the new criminal?" the tall teen asked. "Hobgoblin? What became of him?"

"Still at large." No quips accompanied the web-slinger's answers.

The terrible scene replayed in his mind. He only stood by and watched the destruction unfold. And he was powerless to stop it. Guilt and rage swept through him. Forming a fist, he punched a gargoyle. His unleashed strength shattered its head. The cracks split and extended down the rock body.

Agent Venom and Spider-woman were speechless. They knew of his fury and grief that tormented him.

"Do we know what he wants?" the girl asked. "Maybe we can use that to know where he'll strike next."

"NO!" the leader shouted.

Agent Venom and Spider-woman stared at the web-head. Such an outburst was uncharacteristic of him.

"I don't want you guys going anywhere near this mission," Spider-man ordered. His tone grew dark. "Hobgoblin is mine."

Goblins, even Hobgoblins, were dangerous. Like with his original team, he never wanted anyone close to him be in danger because of such criminals. One ally was already paying for that mistake.

Spider-woman stepped closer. "I know it hurts seeing him in the hospital. Doesn't that mean all the more help you need?"

"It's teamwork that makes champions," Agent Venom added.

Spider-man stood firm in his stance.

"You both insisted on going with Iron Patriot," the girl continued. "You went because you wanted to show your support for a changed Norman and the Osborn family. Harry went because he wanted to support his dad."

"I still could've done something," Spider-man retorted. "Patrioteer has improved since he first put on the armor. But I'm still his leader. Hobgoblin showed interest in going after Iron Patriot. He actually knew it was Norman in the suit. I could've used my webbings to have kept that glider parked."

Agent Venom always respected his forerunner. He needed to show him when he was wrong. "Patrioteer saw a teammate in trouble. His coach. He had to take charge."

"His sacrifice was his choice," Spider-woman translated. "Just like what you do."

The masked ruffian permitted the words to sink in. Yet he couldn't fully accept them. "I need some time alone."

He raced towards the edge of the building and jumped. His body embraced the air before he shot his webs.

A part of him was always afraid that he would lose his best friend to some sort of Goblin.

* * *

Norman returned to the hospital. He kept his promise in being a better father to his only child. The sun hailed in the sky for only a couple of hours. The long night was tough for the older Osborn. His mind rattled. He worried for his boy's well-being. He questioned what devious plot The Hobgoblin was planning. So far the noviced enemy had refrained from attacking his office. He couldn't concern himself with that disquietude right now. He had to be with Harry.

Entering the private room, he spotted his son. The teen was still sleeping. Kolina had informed him that Harry had yet to awaken. Norman felt torn from such information. A part of him felt relieved that his boy hadn't waken up because it meant he could be present. But he worried about much sleep the auburn needed.

Approaching the bed, he clearly saw the neck-brace and oxygen tubes had been removed. He also noted his jacket he left behind remained over him. However, with the nurses moving the patient to extract everything, the piece of clothing had skewed. He decided to reposition it. That's when someone called him.

"Dad?" a soft voice came out.

Norman froze. He gazed into the young blue eyes. He turned relieved seeing the auburn awakening. "Harry!"

"Where am I?" Harry asked.

"You're in the hospital," the father replied. He watched as his boy took in his surroundings. They were in a small room with a window, a TV, and a vent that blew cool air. It was obvious they weren't in the medical wing at the Triskelion. He had to ease him. "It's going to be OK. You're safe."

"What happened? How did I get here?"

Norman became uneasy; Harry had forgotten what took place.

"Wait…." The gears in the teen's mind began to turn. "We were both in our suits. Spider-man was with us…. Hobgoblin!"

Terror consumed him. The images of the yellow skin and fiery red eyes haunted him. The crazy man absorbed in the Goblin mixture managed to slip away. Harry wanted to sit up. A pain struck his entire body. His torso ached the most. He gasped. He clamped his eyes. He gritted his teeth.

"Don't move!" Norman ordered. He locked his hands over Harry's shoulders. He prevented any further acts.

The patient ceased his roaming. His fingers released his clutched sheets. He slowly relaxed himself.

"You musn't exert yourself like that," Norman directed. He was aware of the young adult's discomforts. He pondered about his medications.

Harry obeyed. He recalled all that mishap while lying at rest. As a member of a team, he had to know what was happening between heroes and enemies. "Any word about…. The Hobgoblin?"

A chill encased the older Osborn's body. He couldn't allow that dreadful thought to consume his child, not while Harry was vulnerable. He replied, "No, but you don't need to be worrying about that. Spider-man is on the case."

The words were supposed to sooth the teen. Instead, they made him anxious. The Hobgoblin was a terrifying villain. His strength was unmatched. His identity was unknown. He had access to the Goblin's weaponry. He could strike at any moment.

Norman noted his son's uneasiness.

"Spider-man is well-experienced," he corrected. "He'll have the right strategy to bring in Hobgoblin."

He had learned to place his trust in others. He wouldn't mind if an ally brought in the enemy. He only wanted the lairs to be taken care of by himself. There were consequences for his negligence. The terrible scene of the runaway glider replayed in his mind.

He looked at his son. Harry had adhered to his direction in staying close to him. He never thought the young adult could take action in that manner. In a serious tone he asked, "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" the adolescent asked back.

"Take the glider?"

Harry sensed the diverse emotions his dad was undergoing. He smiled. "Hobgoblin was going after you. I had to do something. You're my dad."

"But risking _your life_?!" The father didn't mean to yell. His anger was the foreground of his worry. His son had a future ahead of him.

Calmly, Harry explained himself. "You didn't let anyone push you around. Even before as Iron Patriot. Neither does Spider-man. I'm not gonna let that happen to me anymore. Not against Ock. And not against this Hobgoblin."

Norman was surprised by his son's courage. Perhaps placing on the Patrioteer suit—the one he had designed—had truly helped the young Osborn develop his grit. Softly, he smiled at his determination. "I see all that S.H.I.E.L.D. studying has paid off."

His fingers brushed the soft auburn hair. He was grateful that his life, and his son's life, had been spared.

Harry smiled at the affection he was receiving. His response was his truth. He never intended to trouble his only parent. But a dilemma was on sight. He did what he could as Patrioteer.

Norman's bright face faded. He debated. He debated if he should pursue The Hobgoblin. If he did, he could catch the madman who harmed his son. On the other hand, wearing the patriotic armor would mean leaving the hospital. He would be leaving Harry behind. He couldn't allow his boy to believe he had abandoned him. He also didn't know if he could part knowing that the teen needed him.

He spotted the auburn flashing his focus elsewhere. The boy's attention fell sharply on the ceiling. Something seemed to alarm him. "Harry?"

The patient snapped out his distracted demeanor. "Sorry. Thought I heard something."

Though Harry brushed off the incident, Norman remained worry. He didn't know how disturbed his boy became. But it gave him his answer.

"I know you've been working on your application for E.S.U.," he collectedly began.

Harry grew puzzled why his father was speaking about his college choice. Such a subject seemed arbitrary at a moment like now. But he figured the new topic could put Norman at ease. "Me, Peter, Flash, and Mary Jane have been going over them together. Mary Jane wants to go into Journalism, but she also has her eyes on Psychology."

"She can always get a minor. Or complete a double major."

"Flash plans on getting an athletic scholarship."

"E.S.U. is proud of its athletic department."

"Peter will definitely get some sort of academic scholarship."

The teen thought about what he unfolded. Perhaps the old part of him would've believed that such a grant for the brunet would make the school genius arrogant. But he knew of the hard work Peter placed into his studies. Especially with his unpaid time as Spider-man. He was proud of him and was glad that they would be attending the same school together. He knew he needed to keep up his end with his grades.

Norman was proud Harry would be attending his alma mater. He was aware of his son already looking at apartments closer to the campus. The auburn was planning on rooming with his best friend. He knew he would have trouble adjusting to an empty nest. But he was looking to give all the support he could. "If you two can work together against the strongest of enemies who threaten New York, then living as roommates with split chores should work out fine."

"A chore wheel should help with that."

"Just make sure to keep up with your assignments and communicate with your groups and professors. I can tell you from my own experiences in those labs where…" Norman stopped. "I know you don't want to be lectured."

Harry wondered if his father was set to tell him a story. He grew excited. "Is this about your old professor? Stromm?"

Norman became surprised by son's eagerness to hear more. He smiled. He was pleased that Harry remembered the parts of his past that he had shared. He shook his head. "No, that embezzlement incident occurred much later. This was before I officially started working with Stromm. This was a time between me and my old lab partner Richard Parker."

The name caught Harry's attention.

Outside of the room, someone in a red and blue costume was also listening.

* * *

 _Empire State University is a research university in Upper Manhattan, New York City. The school motto is "Excelsior!" Various college programs includes nursing, psychology, journalism, and sciences. This was a time before the addition of new buildings, like Osborn Hall and Stacy Memorial Dining Hall. So the campus was smaller than what it would be one day. The student body also consisted of unaltered human beings._

 _The science curriculum was one of the best on the east coast. Lab tables with black counter tops lined the room. Two metal stools were assigned to one desk. Posters of the periodic table, topography maps, famous scientists, and chemical structures adorned the walls. There were a sink and an eye-washing station available for easy access. In front of the classroom was a large green chalkboard. Age was given in that an overhead projector was still used over a computer monitor._

 _Having outstanding courses also meant having excellent teachers. He was an older man. Winkles already covered his face. He was bald but also cleanly shaved. His eyebrows were like two fuzzy caterpillars. A white lab coat rested over his green shirt tucked into his brown pants. He was a genius when it came to machinery. He would some day be known as The Master of Machines. He would one day seek revenge against an Osborn and fight against a hero named Spider-man. For now, he was a highly regarded professor at E.S.U. His name was Mendel Stromm. And he was trying to work with one of his students. A very stubborn student._

" _I don't need a lab partner," a young Norman Osborn declared. He had a head of rich auburn color. His blue eyes held just as much determination. His youthful face sustained no winkles of his own, but stress piled on him just the same. Surrounding his work area were his textbooks and notes. He had adapted to a particular way of working. He refuted any possibility of anyone stopping his goal._

" _No need to be stingy," Stromm advised. "You have a brilliant mind. But that will only take you so far."_

 _The young student scoffed. He had made his way into a prestige university without the help of anyone. Not even his own parents. He believed he only needed faith in himself._

 _The well-experienced professor had worked with numerous students. Some were starry eyes and overestimated their abilities to change the world. A handful were like the Osborn in front of him. He could only teach his course and give advice._

" _You'll eventually need to learn how to play well with others," Stromm heeded. "I'll assign you a student who had late enrollment."_

 _Another young man entered. His dark brown hair was combed back. Brown eyes scanned the space. He carried with him the required textbook and lab workbook. He placed on a charismatic smile._

" _He will be your lab partner," the professor directed._

 _The man looked forward and nodded. He extended his hand. "Richard Parker."_

 _Norman spotted the hand. He knew that if he was to re-claim his place in the world of business he would have to play the game. Reluctantly, he shook it. "Norman Osborn."_

 _Stromm turned to the other student. "Now that you've met your partner, let's go into my office, and I'll give you the class syllabus."_

 _Norman watched as the two left. He returned to his work._

" _He won't even last to midterms."_

* * *

"….What was difficult during those class times was the shown work," Norman explained. "After the lectures and demonstrations, we were given our assignments to follow with questions to complete. My lab partner and I did come to the same conclusion. But the timing of how we came to those answers was different. He wasn't one to simply look over my shoulder and write down the correct answer like some of the other students. It wasn't his mind that vexed me as it was his attitude…."

* * *

 _Norman ardently worked in the lab. He refused to settle for merely a diploma. He had his eyes set on graduating with the highest of honors. He needed to go further in his education through grad school. He needed to impress future investors and intimidate any competitors. He vowed he would pull up Oscorp from the ground and re-claim all that the Osborn family had lost._

 _Because he was on good rapport with Stromm, he was permitted to stay in the lab outside class time. He also used the area as his own private study for his other classes. In addition to the sciences, he studied Business Administrations. He kept to himself as other professors and teachers' aides came and went. He loathed being disrupted._

" _Norman?" a feminine voice asked._

 _The scholar whipped his head up. He grew surprised. "Emily? What are you doing here?"_

 _A young woman entered the lab. Her round shoulders hauled a green jacket. She carried a bright and kind smile. "I brought you some lunch. I know you've been working hard. But you can't use that as an excuse to go hungry."_

 _She handed over a paper bag._

 _Norman was a mulish man. Yet there was someone who broke through his concrete persona. He accepted the food. Touched at the kind act, he smiled back. "Did you have trouble finding the place?"_

" _I actually had some help," Emily replied. "I asked where the labs were, and two students guided me. They said that they were heading in the same direction."_

 _Norman spotted who else entered. He scowled._

" _Got yourself a girlfriend, do you, Osborn?" Richard teased. He was standing alongside a young woman. She had black hair but also caring blue eyes._

" _That's the lab partner I've been talking about," Richard chirped to his own girlfriend. "He got every question right on the last test. Even the extra credit questions."_

 _As usual, he carried a bright smile. The pair left as he explained what was in the room. They seemed to be speaking about their own class assignments._

 _Norman grunted as he disregarded the compliment. Typically what annoyed any grouch was the idealists. Richard seemed content with his own path. Perhaps his personal life was supportive by others. Meanwhile, the young Osborn toiled with little blessings outside his vast intelligence._

" _See?" Emily kindly pointed out. "Your brilliance isn't going unnoticed. You'll be able to achieve your dream in no time."_

 _The young man felt his darkness drifting away. "Yes, but no need to grow a big head. I should stay focus on my goal."_

" _And after lunch, why don't you show me around?" Emily suggested. "I'd love to see what else you've been studying."_

 _Norman turned from his mounting work and gazed into her caring eyes. He slowly relaxed. "Alright, you have me for the rest of the afternoon."_

 _He could never deny her any of her wishes._

* * *

"…. Having the correct partner can make a difference," Norman avowed. "I don't know how I could've made it through those rough years without your mother. She encouraged me to work, but also reminded me to stop and smell the roses."

Harry smiled whenever he heard about his mother. It was through stories and memories like these that he was able to know her and learn about her. He also spotted how happy his father became. Sharing such recollections was no longer a downer.

"I must admit that my lab partner truly irked me," Norman explained. "Of course, I know I wasn't sociable when I was younger."

The teen knew what inhabited his mind. "I know, Dad. You had to work. You had to get Oscorp back on the map."

Norman smiled. While his son shared his drive, he was caring like his mother. He then noticed him shifting underneath his sheets. His jacket slid. He grabbed it and repositioned it. "Is something wrong?"

"Nah, just feeling a little stiff." Harry did enjoy what he heard. It was only yesterday he was brought to the hospital. He was protected by the iron armor. His aching body began waking up. He wanted to stretch.

Norman didn't want his boy to be moving so freely just yet. "Well, let's try this."

He grabbed a remote attached to the bedside. He pressed a button. The bed slowly lifted. As he saw his son becoming comfortable once more, something occurred to him. "It's been awhile since you've last eaten. I'll go find Kolina. Let's see what'll be good for you. If you were given any medication, you'll need to consider what to eat."

"Can't I have a slice of pizza? Or a coffee and donut from the cafeteria?" Harry appreciated his father's care. He didn't want to be smothered. "You don't have to worry about me _this_ much."

"You can say that all you want. But as a parent I will."

The two exchanged smiles. Harry watched as Norman headed towards the door. The private room was quiet for only a moment.

"You can come down now," he assured.

The grate for the vent was removed. Dropping down was Spider-man. His red boots docked themselves on the sterile floor.

Harry greeted his guest with a smile. Thanks to his S.H.I.E.L.D. education, he learned how to identify someone tailing him. He knew his friend was present the entire time.

"How's everything been?" the leader asked. "You remember what happened? That hit with the glider didn't knock out too many marbles, did it?"

"Not everything," Harry admitted. He turned serious. "It all happened so quickly. Hobgoblin and everything in that lair. I still remember that mess."

"Even what you did for Iron Patriot?"

Harry looked at the web-head. White eyelids stared back. He knew of the inner turmoil he placed in not only his leader, but his friend. Confidently, he responded, "I did what I had to do."

Spider-man listened to his teammate. He understood the choice. "Agent Venom and Spider-woman agreed."

The names of the other agents perked up the patient. "We're you guys out all night? Anything on Hobgoblin?"

"Nah. He's gotta be waiting in his little hovel. He's probably using a box of crayons to mark up his next scheme."

"If it's power he's wanting, he'll be looking for more sources. There might be other locations. You know, other Goblin lairs. You and the others should check those out."

The wall-crawler grew hesitant. He wasn't sure if he should allow the other teammates to be involved. But he was intrigued. "Hmm… They could be in Norman's computer. He might've used a different password."

"If it's not my name, try Emily. E-M-I-L-Y."

Spider-man became surprised by the suggestion. "Your mom's name?"

Harry nodded. "She's important to him. She supported him when no one else did."

The one under the red mask knew the loyalty that raced in the young Osborn. "Having a supportive family is important."

The auburn was grateful that his leader saw his value. He knew the extensive labor the notorious web-head did on his own before working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and accepting his teams. He was proud to be striving for the same goals.

The duo became quiet. The idea of Hobgoblin hiding was haunting. One teammate had already been injured. They tried their best to keep up their spirits.

"Dad's been telling me more of his time at E.S.U.," Harry cheerfully brought up.

The other teen heard the side note. He removed his mask. He weaved his gloved fingers through his sweaty hair. "Keeping himself distracted. That's a good strategy for when you're really worried about something or someone."

Harry looked at the brown hair and blue eyes. He assumed his pal didn't want to appear like he was eavesdropping. The brunet needed an invite. Casually, he added, "He was working with this lab partner. Someone named Richard Parker."

The visitor gawked.

"That's the name of your dad, wasn't it?" Harry asked, though his tone demonstrated that he already knew the answer.

"Um, yeah," Peter responded. "But those christen and surnames… They're so common. 'Peter' and 'Harry' are no different."

"Even attending E.S.U.? They gotta be around the same age. You told me that Uncle Ben gave kudos for how smart your dad was. And how he pushed him to go to college."

"Yeah, he had high hopes."

((Uncle Ben and Aunt May did tell me what they knew about my parents. Aunt May told me that while Uncle Ben was courting her that she met my dad. He would tag along on their dates. She said as an adult he always acted so secretly. Uncle Ben said that my dad was always smart but had trouble focusing his energy. They both agreed that he changed for the better after meeting my mom.))

"If my dad worked with your dad… It wouldn't be that farfetched," Peter contended. "It's just unlikely."

He had dedicated time in finding what he could about his folks. What sparked his interest was what he found in his aunt's basement. They were also his parents. Much of their lives was beclouded in secrecy. He was accustomed to dead ends.

Harry knew of the drudgery his buddy placed in towards that goal. Like his own parent and a growing businessman himself, he knew of the profit that could come from taking risks. "I think you should ask him."

Peter debated. He appreciated the input. For now, he had enough talking about his personal life. He had a mission to return to. He placed his mask back on. "Norman will be back any minute. I doubt he'll want you to have any visitors at the moment."

Red gloves opened the window. Red boots stepped on the frame. "Take it easy. I'll fill you in if anything comes up."

Webs were shot, and Spider-man made his exit.

Harry watched as his leader left. He believed in his given advice. He clutched his father's jacket. "You'll never know unless you ask."

The door opened. Norman returned. His eyes landed on his son but caught something disturbing. "Why is the window open?"

He went and shut it. As he turned around, he missed the masked web-slinger totting away.

Harry was aware of Hobgoblin's presence in Norman's mind. He didn't want his father to question Spider-man's visit. He decided to start a new subject. "What did Nurse Frederickson say?"

"She'll be on her way up. I told her that if you needed a bath that I'd be in charge of that."

Harry felt himself growing embarrassed. He felt he was old enough to wash himself despite his accident. He looked towards the window before looking back at his dad. "What else happened? Between you and your lab partner? Richard Parker?"

Norman was surprised by the inquiry. Perhaps it was a better alternative to thinking about The Hobgoblin. As his son took interest in him, he smiled. "Not much between lectures and lab exams."

"Did he know what he was doing? Was he smart? Or did you tutor him?" Harry knew he was asking a lot. He wondered how identical the man was to his best friend.

"I don't think we had the same majors. I rarely saw him outside class time." An old memory occurred to the older Osborn. "But there was something that has always questioned me…"

* * *

 _The young Norman Osborn was working in the lab on a day with wonderful weather. Many students were on the quad and roamed the malls enjoying college life. He had no need to be out. The end of the semester was drawing near. He had papers to write and exams to study for. He stopped when he heard something clatter in the next room._

 _No professors or aides were scheduled to be there. He left his station to go investigate. The commotion he heard emitted from the back storage rooms. He saw the usual shelves and containers. Desks had their own blueprints and other projects the graduates and researchers were working on._

 _Peeking through the door, he spotted a man rummaging through a filing cabinet. He eyed the brown hair and a square jaw. He didn't appear to be someone sanctioned. As the man turned away from the cabinet, Norman saw it was Richard Parker. His lab partner seemed to be examining something within the room. What was odd was his appearance. He seemed far more serious than when he was in class. His brown eyes flashed towards the desks. He then focused on the maps. He seemed to be studying._

 _The other scholar stayed quiet as he watched._

 _When the young student was finished, he made his exit out the back door._

 _Norman entered that room. He was puzzled by what he had witnessed. He looked around the area. Everything seemed to be in place. Knowing he had work to complete, he returned to his station._

* * *

Harry became surprised by the story. He grew concerned for a motive. "You didn't say anything to the professor?"

"It didn't look like any harm had been done," Norman reasoned. "I didn't like him, but I wasn't looking to be dragged into somebody else's problems. I only attempted to see if he would surrender himself…."

* * *

 _The last day before final exams were completed. The class had become half the size of when it began. Students were receiving their stapled review packets and a quiz from the last chapter._

 _Norman looked at his results. He had already picked out his classes for the next semester. He was prepared to continue placing in his disciplines to move forward._

" _Excellent job, Osborn," the professor complimented. "Perhaps we can work again in the near future."_

 _The man in the white lab coat walked off to speak with the other students. It wouldn't be the last time Norman would be with Stromm._

" _Whew!" Richard happily sighed. "That last quiz was tough!"_

 _Norman's eyes caught the high grade. "You seem to have done well for yourself."_

" _Sometimes you hafta go the extra mile to get the info you need."_

" _I don't suppose that that would cover_ cheating _?"_

 _Richard, carrying a surprised expression, looked at his partner. Their time together allowed him to become acquainted with Norman. He could tell the other man was searching for something. "Knowledge is power. There is a right way and a wrong way to get it. Cheaters only prosper in the short term. Men like us understand that real profit is brought with effort."_

 _Norman looked at the brown eyes. Something within his lab partner made him see he wasn't a charlatan. He scoffed. He strongly believed he was a level far higher than the other student._

" _With great power can come great responsibility," Richard unabashedly added. "That's a philosophy me and my brother share."_

 _The young scholar gathered his belongings. He rolled his eyes at the childish outlook. "You're a regular Aristotle."_

* * *

"I never saw him again after that final exam," Norman concluded. "I did continue studying under Stromm. Both as an undergraduate and graduate."

Harry nodded. He knew the old professor was no longer employed at E.S.U. He became angry filling out the rest, "And then after you invited him partnership, he stole money from Oscorp to fund his own secret project. So you had him arrested. You didn't ever find out what it was, did you?"

He hated anyone hurting his family. He knew of the great focus his father placed into reclaiming his empire. He couldn't believe a trusted mentor turned business partner had betrayed his father.

The older man shook his head. "No. But at least Oscorp now officially belongs only to hands of an Osborn."

He placed his hand on his son's shoulder.

Harry knew what his future held. He would one day be behind the big desk and make all the important decisions. He didn't know where his identity as Patrioteer would go. He was looking forward in continuing the Osborn work.

"Isn't this a family photo op," a new voice chirped.

The two Osborns gazed towards the once again opened window. They spotted the hero in the red and blue costume. "Spider-man!"

The web-spinner stepped inside. "You'll wanna remember these good times when burning the midnight oil at the family owned Oscorp."

Harry proudly smiled. "And it's gonna stay that way."

"Never plan on coming and working with me after college?" Spider-man asked. "Does 'Parker Industries' have a marketable name?"

"Depends on your business model. But don't think I'll go easy on the competition."

In spite of the battle and injuries, the two friends made their jokes and kept their high spirits.

Norman was unaware of the two teens meeting before hand. He assumed the web-head was present for business. "As for The Hobgoblin?"

"We got a team working on this," Spider-man informed. "Agent Venom and Spider-woman. They give their best for Paterioteer's fast recovery."

Harry nodded. He already understood who was mentioned. If Spider-man delegated the assignment to them, he could also trust them regardless of his own qualms.

Norman spotted his son's response. He pondered the new information. He recalled the advice of his old professor turned business partner. Despite that man's corruption, he had his wisdom. Collectedly, he asked, "And what will they be doing?"

"Gave them locations of the other Goblin hideouts," the web-head answered. "A nut job like Hobgoblin will search high and low for more power. We can get a lead if we cut off some of his supplies."

Norman listened. He recalled his own anger, believing he himself was responsible for the destruction of those unholy Goblin lairs. He nodded as he understood. "Alright. But have them stand guard. They are to not dismantle anything within. That will be my responsibility."

The wall-crawler respected Iron Patriot's decision. He returned to the main issue. "Should note that Hobgoblin won't be tickle-pink for blocking his toy chest. After throwing a temper tantrum, he'll be looking for a new source of power."

Harry caught on. "Which means he'll be looking for…"

He turned to his dad.

"Right," Spider-man nodded. "He'll go after you, Norman. And anyone else you care about."

Norman looked at his son. The boy was in no condition to operate his suit. His physique was still weakened. He was vulnerable.

"Then we better prepare ourselves," the man stoutly replied. He protectively placed one hand on the teen's shoulder. "I'll need to transfer Harry. Keep him safe. Away from The Hobgoblin. Even with the Goblin formula somehow altering him a difference appearance, there's no telling what else he's capable of."

He intended on moving Harry to Oscorp. To keep the horrific beast on his toes, he would later switch the teen over to the Triskelion.

Harry sadly turned his gaze towards his sheets. He trusted his father's plans. He only wished he could do something to help out his teammates, his friends.

Spider-man caught that desire. He aimed to ease that pain. "The important thing is that our patient is with family. That's a sure fire way to speed up recovery."

He knew his good buddy tried to help with that earlier. Now with their identities known, they tried to support one another. The white slits met with blue eyes.

Inhaling deeply, Spider-man turned to the older Osborn. "Speaking of family, I was wondering if this man looks familiar to you."

He handed over a photo.

Norman studied the image. He spotted a young man with brown hair, brown eyes, and a strong chin. Those features began to click in his mind. Astonished, he looked back up.

The red mask was removed. Now standing in front of the older Osborn was the young adult with brown hair and blue eyes. His features had changed from that scrawny teen he first met.

"Peter, is this…"

"My father Richard Parker. Next to him is his wife Mary."

Norman stared back at the image. He then collected himself. "I did meet a Richard Parker. He was my lab partner. Back when I was an undergrad student at E.S.U."

Peter smiled. "My dad went to E.S.U. So did my mom. He was studying Biology. I wonder if that's where they met."

"As I mentioned to my son, I wasn't out of the lab when I was on campus. The only few moments was going to the school's library."

"He did see someone rummaging through Stromm's office," Harry chimed in. He understood his pal may not want to seem like he was eavesdropping.

Peter believed he could fill in some blanks. "He might've been looking for something not found in the school's old database. I have no doubts he was completing his own school work. Everyone has a setback when starting out."

He arrogantly smiled, "Of course, not Spider-man."

"You sure about that?" Harry smugly challenged. He removed a pillow behind him and adjusted himself. He positioned his hand on his chin to mimic pondering. "Wasn't there an early adventure for Spider-man you were telling me about? Something about tailing a criminal truck when really it was a lost farmer transferring chickens? And Spider-man ambushed him but got covered with a bunch of feathers?"

Peter felt his cheeks grow hot. He snatched the free pillow and began to lightly hit his friend. "Be quiet!"

Harry grinned from the light attack. He used his father's jacket like a shield.

Norman was visibly puzzled. "What assignment could endorse retrieving that information in such a secretive manner?"

The brunet ceased his play. He replied, "Anyone interested in working for the Central Intelligence Agency."

The head of Oscorp grew bewildered by the response. With wide eyes, he stared at the brunet. "The CIA? Really?"

He turned to his boy. Harry nodded. The best friend was already familiar with his past.

Meekly but proudly, Peter began to unfold more of his story. "My dad Richard worked for the CIA. So did my mom Mary. They were double agents."

The older Osborn was stunned by the revelation. "I take it, then, their jobs were the reason you were staying with your extended family?"

Peter's bright attitude turned sullen. "My parents' real identities somehow got exposed. They were on a plane when it crashed. I found more info as Spider-man. An operative working under Red Skull, The Finisher, got to them."

Norman became shocked.

The brunet understood the reaction. Thinking about his found information and the catastrophic results, he turned angry. "Their last mission allowed for all news sources to assume that they were traitors. That they were working for Red Skull."

He clenched the red mask he held.

"Did that cause trouble for your aunt and uncle?" the older Osborn asked. He didn't mean to pry. But the adolescent he had grown to know was talking about his personal life openly.

Peter remembered all the newspaper clippings he found in the attic. "It wasn't easy. Even Aunt May thought the worst about them when all these headlines came out. And Uncle Ben… He never got to know that his brother was never a traitor to the country."

((After Aunt May found out about me being Spider-man, I was able to say about what I found. I was glad to see that she can now hold a positive view on her brother-in-law and my mom, who she saw as a good friend. Aunt May assured me that my parents would be proud of my calling. I would've loved to have shared what I found with Uncle Ben.))

He heavily sighed. It was painful knowing it was only him and his aunt. He felt a hand on his risk. Looking up, he spotted his friend. He smiled. He knew he had others for support.

Harry understood what his best friend was brooding about. He looked at his own dad and thought about what he had been through. He turned back to the brunet. "Maybe Uncle Ben did know. Like that feeling you get when something is true or someone is innocent no matter how unlikely. He continued to see the best in his brother. He believed but didn't know how to prove it."

Peter looked at his buddy. He thought about their own bond. He grinned. "That's possible. He never lost hope."

"Hope is embedded in the Parker gene. And it looks like that has carried on."

Peter studied his mask, recalling all the foes he fought to keep New York safe. The same as his parents. He nodded. "Yeah, they were heroes."

"So is their son," Harry added.

"And his best friend. Plus his dad."

Norman looked at the two teens. They laughed in such a warm and carefree manner. They had each other's support—both for the civil and heroic identities. He observed how close their bond became ever since that rainy day.

He gazed back at the photo. He never saw that lab partner again. He continued learning under Stromm throughout his university career. He even invited the man partnership in the re-building of Oscorp. That misadventure gave him a step back in trusting others. Yet Richard Parker was different. The other student did work hard in that class. He only missed two sessions for sanctioned reasons. He never thought he would meet someone who was indirectly connected to his past.

Smiling, he mumbled, "Perhaps that Richard Parker wasn't a terrible lab partner after all."

 **End** _**Lab Partners**_

Like with the mantle of _Spider-Man_ and _Green Goblin_ , _Hobgoblin_ has various individuals. For the original, see Roderick Kingsley/Hobgoblin, _Amazing Spider-Man #238_ , 1983.

Kolina Frederickson, see _Spider-Man:_ _Revenge of_ _t_ _he Green Goblin #1_ , 2000.

Mendel Stromm/Gaunt/Robot Master, see _Amazing Spider-Man #37_ , 1966. As Gaunt, see _Amazing Spider-Man #_ _411_ , 1996. As Robot Master, see _Civil War II:_ _Amazing Spider-Man #3_ , 2016. For appearance of death, see _Amazing Spider-Man_ _Vol. 5_ _#_ _5_ , 2018.

Richard Parker and Mary Parker-Fritzpatrick, see _Amazing Spider-Man Annual #5_ , 1968.

Karl Fiers/Finisher, see _Amazing Spider-Man Annual #5_ , 1968.

Empire State University, see _Amazing Spider-Man #_ _1_ , 1963.


	21. Ending The Goblin

**Author's notes:** Still disappointed that Harry never was a Goblin in this USM series.

 **Summary:** The Osborns put an end to The Goblin for good.

 _ **Ending The Goblin**_

Spider-man and Norman Osborn, two brilliant minds, collaborated in a lab at Oscorp. The glass beakers and flasks held special chemicals. A white slit in a red mask noted the ticks on the equipment. The distinguished liquids needed to be measured precisely.

"Must be nice to have your own company's name on these tools," the hero mused aloud. "I hope I can have my name printed on something without the word 'menace' attached."

They were working on a remedy for The Goblin. Such terrible beasts had resurrected thanks to Doc Ock and HYDRA. Norman had successfully cured himself from that horrid chemical mixture. Now he was teaming up with Spider-man to replicate the antidote. As the duo carried out the job, Scarlet Spider kept an eye out for any arising trouble that may disrupt the process. Harry assisted his father in grabbing whatever items Norman needed. Most of the numbers were in the older Osborn's head. He only needed to instruct any modifications.

After putting in a couple of hours, the treatment was completed.

"Let's go bring down that slime ball," the web-slinger announced.

Spider-man and his newest teammate, Scarlet Spider, left the building. They had a mission to complete (minus any shared high fives). All who were left behind were the Osborns and those who had become members of HYDRA's Goblin army.

"I called an ambulance," Norman announced. "They should be here to take those infected with the Goblin serum to a hospital for further monitoring."

He noted his received no response. He watched his son.

Harry stepped up to the area destroyed by Ock and HYDRA. The broken window permitted drafts to blow in. His blue eyes glared. They had been unexpectedly besieged. He was held prisoner by two Goblin mooks while his father was strapped to a chair. That madman Otto Octavious wanted Norman to return to his Goblin character.

"Harry?" Norman called.

The teen heard his name. He harshly replied, "It won't ever be enough for him, will it?"

The father became surprised by the sharp tone. He spotted Harry angrily clenching his fists. Heroes like Spider-man and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had their reasons to loath the green monster and the evil scientist. But only one person surpassed Norman in hating The Goblin.

"Ock's really pathetic," Harry bitterly added. "He thought he could make you a Goblin again. He wanted you back, so he had to ambush us. It was totally outta revenge. I know that we Osborns don't hafta let Goblins be our only identity. But if he had given me that serum, if he wanted me to so badly be a Goblin, it wouldn't have been pretty for him—"

Harry stopped when he felt someone snatching his wrist. Norman swung his son into a tight embrace. He wrapped one arm around the teen's shoulder, and he placed his other hand on his boy's head. His bond was strong like steel.

The act bewildered the young Osborn. His anger suspended from the strange performance given by his only family.

"Dad?" Harry called confused.

"That was too close," Norman whispered, distressed. "He almost took you away from me. He almost made you a Goblin. And I couldn't do anything to have stopped it."

Harry closed his mouth. His rage was replaced by fear. He recalled how terrified he was with the threat. Their foe Doc Ock nearly made the teen a Goblin, following his father's unholy footsteps. Sharing the frightened response, he mirrored his dad's position. He was powerless against their enemy. He could have easily transformed into the same monster that enslaved his father.

The wind blew on as the limited family stood in place.

"At least Spider-man was there to help," Harry softly replied.

The hero in the blue and red spandex was always giving a hand. He defended helpless New York citizens. He aided the wealthy Osborns whenever they were under attack. Now that Harry had his father back, he had no reason to hold any anger towards the arachnid-based hero. He knew should he had become such a monster Spider-man would do all he could to rescue him (unaware that the wall-crawler would be protecting his best friend).

Norman heard the fair argument. He permitted himself to ease up. He released his powerful grip. "Yes, you're right. I owe a great debt to him. Even more so since he saved you before anything worse could be done."

Harry had an idea how the older Osborn could achieve that. He softly asked, "Will you hafta go? As Iron Patriot?"

He was glad to see Norman take the heroic path to make up for his misdeeds. But the job could only be done by him. He had no way of helping his father.

Norman gazed into the pleading blue eyes. He shook his head. "I believe Spider-man and his teammate will be able to stop Octavious and his plan. That's their goal. Mine is to protect you."

A part of Harry was relieved to hear that. He always praised his father for his work as Iron Patriot. He knew of the bitter rapport between Norman and Octavious, the two inventive men. But after being stormed unexpectedly, he was happy to have his only family stay with him. Yet no smile came to his face.

"We'll need to head down for safety," Norman instructed. "I figured Octavious dropping by would happen. I've built something new for a shelter. With all these Goblins still running around, it's not safe up here. But before we go—"

He stopped after looking at his son. He noticed the remaining dower appearance. "Harry? What's wrong?"

Despite the assurance, Harry carried one more issue in his heart. He was furious at Doc Ock for his attempts in reviving The Goblin. But the incident led to something else to be revealed. He had the feeling Norman was still holding secrets from him.

"I didn't know you cured yourself," Harry disclosed. "I was so scared when Ock gave you that serum. I was paralyzed thinking that The Goblin was gonna come back. But… even if Ock couldn't control you as The Goblin, I…"

Norman heard his boy. He listened to the quieting pitches in his voice. The pause alarmed him. "What?"

Harry lowered his head. Closing his eyes, he quietly confessed, "I was afraid that you were gonna leave me again."

Norman gazed at his son. He understood the Osborn rage the teen displayed earlier was stemming from his apprehension. He learned to accept that Harry felt things more deeply than he did. Or rather, what he pretended to not feel.

"I didn't think I ever needed to bring it up," he replied. His tone was soaking with regret. "I was hoping that me curing myself would've been the end of it all."

Harry looked up. He noticed the genuine sorrow given by the glower and soften eyes. He didn't want guilt to consume his father. The man had kept his promise in being a better parent. Pushing away the glum, he remarked, "Then let's not worry about it anymore. You're cured, and Spider-man is out stopping HYDRA. This Goblin nightmare is over, right?"

"Not quite."

"What do you mean?"

Silently, Norman walked back towards the lab table. His eyes were drawn to the expensive tools. He picked up a particular item.

"What is it?" Harry asked as he followed. His eyes noticed a syringe. A special chemical resided in the glass. The size of the instrument was designed for an individual, not a crowd.

"It's the last of the vaccine," Norman explained. "Spider-man and his teammate have enough for their mission. This last mixture is for you."

"Me?"

"Octavious may have failed this time, but he'll return. I don't want him taking another chance with you."

Harry stared at the concoction. His mind traveled back to the threat. Osborns were on the same level as The Goblin. He was still vulnerable.

Norman realized all the mistakes he made. His old partnership with Doc Ock allowed the teen to be hurt. His greed led Harry to choose unsavory paths to earn his approval. Many of his intentions towards Harry were for himself, not his son. He lowered the syringe.

The younger Osborn noticed the resignation. He looked up as Norman ruled, "You're almost an adult and can make your own decisions. I won't force you to take it. I only want to keep you safe. But it looks like I've failed at doing the most basic responsibility of a father."

He looked away.

Harry recalled how terrified he was with how easily the serum could have been placed in him. He brought to mind all the misery he underwent while his only parent was dominated by The Goblin. He couldn't bear placing his only parent under that same despair.

He walked closer and straightened himself up. His decisive act caught his parent's attention. He looked at the man straight in his eyes.

"Dad, I never want to be a Goblin."

Norman smiled. He felt proud that his son was rejecting the power he consumed himself with. He picked up the syringe. The chemical sloshed as it moved. He flicked the glass, knocking out any bubbles.

Harry was prepared. He rolled up his sleeve. He exposed enough flesh on his upper arm. He could feel his heart race. He pushed aside any negative thoughts. He wanted the nightmare to be over.

Norman placed his free hand on the teen's shoulder. He then carefully stuck the needle into his son's skin.

In response to the prick, Harry clamped his eyes. He clinched his teeth. The feeling of the antidote running in his body felt odd. His head was beginning to feel a strange rush. He could feel his heart pump faster. Once the needle was out, he felt his legs losing their strength.

Norman dropped the needle as he helped stable his boy's balance.

The father and son looked at each other.

They smiled as they shared a hug.

The end had finally come to The Goblin.

 **End** _ **Ending The Goblin**_


End file.
